


The Charred Remains

by Malzysaur



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Amnesia, Dubious Consent, Guns, Jealousy, Jim is a dick, Love, Love Letters, M/M, Sherlock is angry, Smut, Violence, too many things to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 52,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malzysaur/pseuds/Malzysaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months after Sherlock's death, John is brutally attacked on his way home from a pub. He wakes a week later, no memory of the past few years, but a shoe box full of letters promises to explain everything. He just wishes he could remember the life his letters tell him about, and most of all he wishes he could remember how he came to be married to a man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Read Me

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just randomly struck me one day. I think it's sort of a mix of the movie P.S. I Love You and The Notebook, but less romantic than those movies. The first few chapters will be in letter form unless I feel like adding some bits otherwise. Also, just to ease some feels, it will eventually be Johnlock. I hope you enjoy, and please review! Thanks so much! Thanks as always to my amazing beta MeddlingAdler!

**The Charred Remains**

It was like waking from a deep sleep, a deep sleep which felt like a lifetime for John Watson. His head pounded painfully, stars danced at the edges of his vision, and the darkness threatened to pull him down once more, but he fought against it. He concentrated on his breathing, letting the waves of nausea pass before he ventured to take in his surroundings. He was in a hospital room…an exceptionally nice looking room. He blinked, trying to recall what had landed him in such a place, but all he could remember was pain. He groaned before seeing the door to his room open. He watched a nurse and doctor approach him. He saw their mouths moving, though the fog in his brain refused to make sense of their words. He closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to pull together some stream of consciousness before the doctor's words penetrated the fog.

"…been in a coma for a week. Test results show damage to the frontal lobe and hippocampus which could mean memory loss. We've repaired the damage as best we could, but only time will tell how severe the memory loss is; if it will be permanent." The doctor, a lofty, skinny man smiled as he finished talking.

John wasn't sure how to respond. He opened and closed his mouth, though no sound came out. The nurse, a pretty red head smiled sympathetically as she passed him a Styrofoam cup of cool water. John was grateful for it, but knew he'd have to take small sips. When the cup was drained he turned his gaze back to the doctor, expecting him to continue, because so far nothing made sense to John.

The doctor gave a small jump when he realised why John was looking at him in such a confused manner, "Oh, forgive me, I didn't realise…I'm Doctor Ward. I've been watching over you since you were brought in last Thursday night from St. Bart's. As I said before, your frontal lobe and hippocampus was damaged in an attack. Swelling and blood against your brain has caused some bruising leading to possible memory loss. You've been in a coma for about a week now. Sorry to heave all of this information on at once, but can you tell me what your last memory is?"

John let out a slow breath. That was a lot to take in, and as he took stock of his body, he found that more than just his head hurt, and in fact his leg was in a cast. He frowned. What the hell happened? He turned his gaze inwards again as he attempted to pull forward his most recent memory. It was like clawing his way through a thick, dense fog. Everything was fuzzy, and nothing was making sense. He remembered his childhood, each parent's death, Harry, Harry's wedding, joining the army, medical school, becoming a doctor, being a battlefield surgeon, being shot, being invalided home, and then nothing. He furrowed his brows. He felt like there was more missing, but he couldn't recall a single thing. He looked up at the doctor.

"I remember being sent home from Afghanistan in January of 2010. Harry, my sister, helped me get settled in a flat and I saw a therapist…her name is Ella…other than that I don't know," he looked up at the nurse and doctor, completely lost.

Dr. Ward frowned, but nodded, "Very good John, so you recall being a doctor, that information wasn't lost, but I'm afraid everything from the last few years has been lost. It's March 13th of 2012 right now." He turned away from John then.

A smile flowed across the nurse's face as she watched the doctor.

John cocked his own head as well; curious as to what the doctor was doing.

"Fortunately we anticipated for memory loss and your…significant other took it upon himself to write you letters explaining your lost years in hopes it would trigger your memories to return. He asked, upon your waking, that I give you this box. He'll come see you once you've finished reading the letters. If you need anything John, you can reach Kirsty with just the press of a button." Doctor Ward smiled at John as he set a shoe box in his lap.

Kirsty stepped forward once the doctor was gone, "He's a handsome one, your man. Didn't leave your side once while you slept, not until you started coming 'round last night," the nurse spoke, her accent speaking of Irish roots. John liked her well enough, she seemed sunny and was good looking, but according to her and the doctor, he was with a man, which was confusing. What he could remember, he didn't feel attractions to other men outside of rushed meetings during the war when stress relief was a vital part of survival. He swallowed thickly again.

"He started writing the letters last week when he learned you might lose some memories. He wasn't sure what you'd remember so he started at the beginning. He even arranged for you to be transferred here from St. Bart's, says you've always thrived in the country. What I wouldn't give to find a man like that," she sighed dreamily before grabbing John's chart to record a few different vital stats.

If John felt like he was going to pass out before, he felt it even more keenly now. It made no sense, but if the man took the time to write him letters, then he'd take the time to read them, see if they triggered something. He looked up as the nurse prepared to leave after jotting a few notes down, "Thank you, I'll let you know what happens," he said quietly, his own words sending small shocks of pain through his head.

Silence settled on the room once more. John was alone with a shoe box, a shoe box that promised to chase away the fog in his brain. He was terrified to note the way his hands shook as he opened the lid to the box. Inside were dozens of folded pieces of notebook paper. Each paper had a number scribbled on it. John riffled through until he found the paper with a number one scrawled on it. He picked it up, studying it before setting it down again. He looked out into the room. Could he do this, could he read through his life and hope to remember it, or could he just leave the hospital and start fresh. He was about to shift the shoe box off to the side when a glinting light caught his eye. He raised his left hand to see a silver band adorning his ring finger.

"Bugger that…I'm married…to a bloke…?" he uttered in a breathless whisper.

He rubbed his thumb over the metal, stunned. He couldn't recall even an inkling of a wedding. His breath escaped him for a moment. He wasn't sure about anything, but someone did go through a lot of trouble writing the letters in the shoe box, and if what they said was true, well then he owed it to the man to read what was written for him. He sucked in a deep breath before picking the box up again and setting it in his lap. He picked up the letter with the number one scrawled on it, unfolded it, and began to read the neat script written across the page.

_My Dearest John,_

_I know you may not remember me, but I've taken the liberty to try and help you remember. It may come as a shock to wake and find yourself married, to a man no less, but I'd be lost without you. I had to try and help, and in an attempt to be less intrusive, I decided that writing letters might be more helpful._

_Let me begin._

_My name is James Moriarty._

_We met a little over two years ago, and were married almost a year ago._

_Please read on and remember. I'll be here when you're done._

_Love, always,_

_JM._

* * *


	2. Strangers When We Met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are my lovelies! Chapter 2. Can I just also say thank you all so much for liking the story, despite the little turn up at the end! I do hope you all stick around, I can promise that it will be worth it! Also, as of now, I have no real set schedule of updating, but you can expect a chapter at least once a week, or as quick as my beta and I can get through them. I do have chapter three done, but I have to send it to the lovely MeddlingAdler! She is amazing and this story will be amazing with her help! Again, thanks so much for the reviews, I loved them, and they help persuade me to update faster!

_My Dearest John,_

_I know this is all going to come as a shock to you, so I figure where better to start than right at the beginning. The letters will be quite chronological as I am in possession of an eidetic memory._

_I'll begin by telling you about myself. You know from the first letter that my name is James Moriarty. I go by Jim, but my associates call me Moriarty. I am, to be quite frank, a genius. I thrive on studying anything I can get my hands on. There is no subject I will turn down, but if there is information I deem useless, I simply wipe it from my mind. I have an affinity for puzzles, creating and solving them._

_When we met I was working in the IT department at St. Bart's. I have since moved on from that job, preferring to now work out of the house. I am wealthy. I live a comfortably luxurious life. I come from Ireland, so you'll have to forgive my accent when we do meet again at the end of these letters. My mother is still alive and well in Ireland. We often visit her around the holidays. She's quite fond of you._

_Now that you have an idea of who I am, let me start the story of how there came to be an us._

_We were introduced to one another by Mike Stamford. I'm sure you remember him since he's been a part of your life for quite a few years. He heard we were both looking for a flatmate. I'd like to say it was some sort of magic when we met, but that's not true. Magic doesn't exist. It was simple human chemistry between two bodies. I know you don't understand now, but you will._

_You weren't too keen on the idea of moving in together so quickly, but you were eager to get out of the tiny flat you were renting. You agreed to a trial run of sorts with me. You came to my flat the next day. When you saw where I lived, it took a lot of convincing to make you stay for the agreed upon week, but you gave in. When I asked what made you stay, you said it was because you saw the loneliness you felt mirrored in my eyes. I suppose you felt sorry for me, but the way you stated it sounded much more polite._

_The reason you refused to stay with me was because, bluntly, my flat was exquisite. A penthouse to be exact, completely decorated to my tastes. You said you felt like you were in a museum. It took you quite some time to finally feel comfortable in the flat, but by the time you did, we had already decided to move somewhere a bit more comfortable for the both of us._

_That first day together I was silent. You told me it made you uncomfortable, but I couldn't help it. I already told you I'm a genius and I thrive off of puzzles, and you were quite the puzzle that I needed to observe in order to understand and solve. That's what I was doing that first day, I was simply observing and cataloging information about you._

_You tried to fill the silence with anything. Crap telly topics, news topics, technology topics, topics about topics, anything John, you literally tried to talk about anything. It was…kind of cute. I do hate the line 'love at first sight,' because it's proven to be false, but I was infatuated at first sight._

_From your slightly unkempt, sun kissed blonde hair to your scuffed and outdated trainers, to your awful jumpers and perfect tea, I was taken. I wish I could say the same for you, but unlike me, you liked the opposite sex quite a lot, so I was forced to bury my feelings for quite some time._

_Back to our first week together, aside from the slightly uncomfortable first day, we did get along pretty well. The second day I opened up a little. We are both early risers, though you beat me to it that first morning. I came out of my room to find you sitting at the kitchen table wearing a white tee shirt with navy sleeping trousers. You had one leg tucked up under the other as you read the morning paper. You were already nursing your own cuppa, but I spied another mug placed at the table across from you._

_I couldn't help the small smile at seeing it. I approached and sat down across from you. I gingerly sipped the tea. I can be very particular about it since I'm not too fond of the drink, but the cuppa you made for me was perfection. You looked up over the paper, smiling a bit shyly as you wished me a good morning._

_I couldn't help but smile back with my reply._

_It took a lot to not have you laid across the table that morning._

_I sat back in my chair and asked for the financial section of the paper. You obliged without saying a word. I used the paper to disguise the fact I was watching you again. You have a tendency to read slowly, later I learned it's because you are a careful reader. Another endearing trait you have. You read carefully because you are genuinely interested in day to day news, but you tend to skip over the war stories._

_Later, when we were more comfortable with one another I asked you about those days. I'll never forget the darkness that crossed your face. You tried to fight it because you are ever the soldier, but I saw it and I immediately wished I could have known you back then so that I could have helped. I remember telling you that some months later when a nightmare woke you. You turned to me in the dark of our room, that soft smile on your lips, but a lingering sadness and pain in your eyes as you spoke. You said:_

_"I wish I'd known you back then too, I think we could have both made each other happy."_

_Before you, I never thought I could be happy with anyone, but then you turned my world upside down, and since then I've never wanted to put it back right side up._

_I know I skipped over a bit in this letter, but I can't help it. My writing tends to flow as my memories do, and each time I remember a point of our early life, I'm brought to another memory of us. I promise to try and provide a better look into our first days together in the next letter. I just hope I haven't scared you away with this one._

_You should rest now. I know you'll have read this letter more than once. You're still healing. Lay back and begin with the other letters when you're feeling better. I'll be seeing you soon enough._

_Love Always,  
JM._


	3. And So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go kiddies, as I said, unpredictable posting schedule. I apologize for that, but this is still a WIP because I suck at finishing fics before posting them. Also, you’ll see, in a far off chapter, why this fic has the title it has. :) Thanks a million to my amazing beta MeddlingAdler for her help and suggestions. She makes chapters much more amazing, and any mistakes are my own! Enjoy!

_My Dearest John,_

_I apologise for the jumping of that first letter. I was overwhelmed with information when I began, and I simply tried to pour everything into it with little thought to how you would perceive it. I have, thankfully, had time to think about this letter before I started it. This letter is going to focus on the days leading up to our first kiss, because I fear, the time before that was rather tedious, and not worth mentioning…quite vanilla if you will._

_We had been living comfortably together for a month before I started thinking about seeing what your feelings towards me were. I had observed that men, and men with other men didn't disgust you, but I did not know how you'd feel about being in a relationship with another man. Of course I could only surmise that you had relations with men in your army days, but beyond that I was not sure you wanted to commit emotionally to a man._

_I had observed your many, many dates with women, and started to note what attracted you to your dates. I thought that I could apply the attractions you feel towards women to me, though without the soft curves and other physical attachments. I simply wanted to know what you looked for in the personality of a woman to see if I could emulate that aspect. I disguised my fact collecting by seeming interested in asking you about dating. At this point I hadn't told you about my sexuality, so when I approached you about dating, you flashed me a quick little smile, which, annoyingly, I found to be extremely endearing. I was quite close to just walking away, resigning myself to a life of pining after you, but then you put your hand on my shoulder and said, "I was wondering if you'd ever ask me about this sort of thing."_

_The look I gave you must have been something because you soon doubled over in laughter. I turned on my heel, thoroughly annoyed with your behaviour, but then you stopped me, again, with your hand on my shoulder. It's going to sound redundant, but that point of contact from you was like fire._

_I turned back to you, glaring to hide my pleasure at your touch, "You've had your laugh John, now if you please, I'd like to never think of this conversation again."_

_Your mirthful eyes changed into warm, inviting pools of cerulean, "Please Jim, I'm sorry, I won't make a comment towards your…dating life again," you smiled sweetly, which was infections because my lips began to twitch._

_I quickly hid the almost smile by rolling my eyes, "I have no dating life to comment on, which brings me to seeking advice from you. You have an…exciting dating life and I was hoping you could help me…have one."_

_John, you should know, I have never been embarrassed discussing anything with anyone, but the mere thought of discussing dating with you made me…nervous. I detest being nervous. Despite the stumbling of my words, that warm, inviting smile stayed on your lips. This time I didn't hide the smile from my own lips._

_"Well you did come to the right bloke, but I'm not sure I have the model dating life," you did like to joke a lot; your jokes were always lost on me. I will admit, with everything that goes through my brain on a daily basis, humour is lacking for me._

_I tilted my head, curious as to why you would say that. You understood my curious look because you steered me over to the sofa and sat me down. I pivoted round to face you, our knees just barely brushing whenever the other would shift in his seat. I was so painfully aware of this fact that sixty percent of what you said to me was lost._

_"Why do I not want to model my dating life on yours?"_

_You chuckled, deep in your chest, your head shaking, "Well, I'm not sure where you've been, but so far none of my relationships have worked out."_

_Of course I knew that, it secretly delighted me when you'd announce the end of yet another fling, but I didn't say that, instead I frowned, "I have noticed, but I can't even get someone I'm interested in to notice me."_

_God John, I swore to myself that if you kept on smiling at me like you wanted to wrap me up in your arms and protect me from the big bad world, I wouldn't be able to hold back. As it was, my hands were already curled into tight fists to keep some modicum of self control as we sat and talked._

_As the conversation progressed the topic finally came up, the chance for me to reveal which sex I was more inclined towards._

_"I mean, you've at least had to have a girlfriend in the past?"_

_I shook my head._

_"So, never had a girlfriend, how about a…erm…a boyfriend?"_

_Another shake of my head, but this time there was a heat in my cheeks._

_You swallowed thickly, "Ah…well I've never had a boyfriend either, and right now I have no girlfriend, so I am quite unattached…looks like we're up the same creek mate." You smiled, and I melted._

_"You—you're not put off by the fact that I'm gay?"_

_You grinned wide, shaking your head, your hand patting my knee, "No, no, that'd never put me off. To each their own I say. My sister is currently divorcing her wife."_

_Ah yes, your sister, Harry, who I had thought was your older brother when we met, though I can hardly be at fault for that deduction. I did love that surprised look on your face when I fed you your life story. You were amazed, which surprised me. I hardly ever spout off that parlour trick anymore, having met many fists when I was younger by deducing people. I think that's the biggest reason I was so attracted to you. You accepted the things about me others used to use to tear me down. You built me up, restored the confidence I was lacking in my adult life. To state it simply, you were the perfect fit for me, though it took you quite a lot longer to realize that yourself._

_We discussed a few of the finer points of dating that night, you shared your tips and tricks with me, which I was thankful for, but I wanted to know the things you were attracted to. Once the conversation hit a lull I jumped in._

_Clearing my throat, my eyes jumping anywhere but your face I finally asked, "Well, what is it that you're attracted to? I-in a woman I mean?"_

_Honestly John, your smiles need to be outlawed for what they do to my heart._

_You grinned at me, shaking your head, "Ah, what attracts me to someone hm?" you lifted your hand, index finger and thumb stroking your jaw. "I suppose, right now, it's just a pretty face and soft curves. I'm not much for something serious at this time, but if I meet the right person, then I suppose I might change my mind."_

_You have no idea how much that statement excited me. You said, 'the right person,' not woman or man, but person. It could have been a simple slip of the tongue, but somehow I don't think it was. That statement gave me the hope I needed to keep my confidence of winning you over._

_Over the next few days we discussed the finer points of dating until you came home with a huge smile. There was a new intern at the clinic you worked with. His name was Stephen, and according to you, he was a right good bloke. Kind, good looking, enigmatic, intelligent, and open minded. You invite the both of us to join you and Sarah, your boss, for dinner. I agreed to attend to meet this Stephen person as well as hope to make you a touch jealous._

_The dinner was rather lovely, I will admit, and Stephen was a lovely bloke, but I was more focused on you. Thankfully I am a talented actor so I did give Stephen due attention, which led to him asking me to meet for drinks at a later date that week. You seemed to be quite proud of yourself for a successful night. You had a certain glow about you, which wasn't caused by Sarah, whom you admitted was just a close friend at this point. I rather enjoyed that bit of information. She is a lovely person, but she would have driven you crazy in time._

_We met in January of 2010, you moved in January 10_ _th_ _; it took us until March 18_ _th_ _to have our first kiss. I felt I should make it clear that we had spent a substantial amount of time together before doing something so fantastic._

_I had been seeing Stephen for a few weeks when I approached you, apprehensively, to enquire about kissing. I had never kissed anyone before, so I was growing fearful of possibly kissing Stephen and disappointing him. You reassured me that kissing isn't an art, and once it happens I would know what to do._

_I frowned, "Is that how it was for you? Someone kissed you and you just automatically knew what to do?" I raised my brow, challenging you to be truthful._

_You shifted into a more nervous look, your hand rubbing the back of your neck, "Well no, I suppose not. I practiced with a girl from primary school."_

_I huffed out a breath, "Well then teach me what to do."_

_You chuckled at me, "Why not just tell Stephen the truth. I'm sure he wouldn't mind teaching you."_

_You can be quite thick sometimes John. I glared at you, "I want to be skilled when I kiss him. I detest being uninformed and awkward. Most of my adolescent life I was perceived as awkward and the school kids bullied me for it. I do not wish my adult life to be lived in such a way if it does not need to be, so will you help me or not?" I crossed my arms firmly over my chest, glaring at you._

_You gave a put upon sigh before stepping forward. My heart was beating furiously as you looked at me, studied me, trying to gauge my intentions. You wanted to know if I was being serious. You must have seen what you needed to because the corner of your mouth lifted into a faint smirk, "Alright, alright, I'll teach you, but it might be best not to tell Stephen you kissed your flatmate. He might not like that too much."_

_I nearly fainted when you gave your consent, further proof that you weren't put off by men, but seemed to hide that fact._

_I smiled readily at you, "Thank you John, and I will not tell Stephen I practiced with you," I fidgeted a bit, unsure of what to do with myself. I really had not kissed anyone before, so this was not a trick._

_You stepped forward, you hands gently gripping my forearms. You moved them to circle your waist. My heart pounded at this new proximity to you. I looked down at you, eagerly awaiting the lesson. At the time I wasn't worried about what you could read from my body language because I was much too focused on you. You didn't seem all that nervous, but then why would you? You've kissed plenty of people in your life._

_Back to the moment, my arms were around your waist, my spine rigid, heart beating frantically, and my eyes wide, eagerly waiting and watching you. You smiled up at me, your hand coming up to curl gently around the nape of my neck, your thumb gently brushing against the soft hairs there. Your smile was gentle as your other hand settled against my right hip. You stepped closer to me, your eyes going to my lips. I licked nervously at mine, very much wanting the contact. I sucked in a deep breath as you leaned in._

_Right before we met you whispered, "Breathe Jim," and I let out my breath, softly, only for my heart to stop at the contact of your lips._

_Your lips were soft, a bit moist, but firm against my own. My eyes fluttered a second before finally closing. My arms tightened around your waist, drawing you closer. I loved the feel of your smaller, more compact body pressed against mine. Your hand moved up from my hip to circle my waist, the hand on my neck pressing slightly to bring our lips a bit harder together._

_It was a chaste kiss until I poked my tongue out. I needed to taste you John, and to have you so close, in a position that I could do so, I had to go for it. My tongue came out to lick at your bottom lip, drawing in a taste of tea and toast, your most favoured breakfast. My knees shuddered slightly. I felt the tips of your fingertips digging into my spine. Against my chest I could feel the beat of your heart, sped up as well. Your lips came unsealed, the tip of your tongue emerging to brush gently at my lips, then things exploded._

_My hands started to roam along your back, gripping, feeling, taking stock of the muscles and spine I could feel beneath your tee shirt. I pressed myself into you, my hips slotting against yours perfectly. A moan sounded between our now opened lips; though from whom it came I still am not sure. You hand had ventured from my neck to scrape against my scalp. Your tongue was much more adventurous as it licked along my own, into my mouth to lick and taste. I learned from your movements, my own tongue venturing into your mouth to drink you up._

_I had no idea something seemingly mundane could be so invigorating, though it could have just been because it was you, but I found my mind completely silent, something I had not experienced in years. As the kiss drew to an end you sucked my bottom lip between your own, your teeth very gently scraping along it as you drew your head back to look at me. You wore a sated sort of smile, "I think you should be fine," you breathed, and then you stepped back. I felt so cold when you did, my whole body shivered, but I smiled thankfully at you._

_I made myself nod, "Thank you John," I fear my voice was quite breathless at this point. I leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before walking away._

_That, John, was our very first kiss. It would be a few more weeks until we'd have our second, which would lead us to becoming much more than flatmates. I fear that must be saved for the next few letters. Again, I don't want to overwhelm you. Get some rest now. You need much of it in order to heal properly. I do so look forward to seeing you again, awake, alive, and at least knowledgeable of your life. When I see you, we will work out the finer points, but for now, rest John. I will see you soon enough._

_Love Always,_

_JM_


	4. Let's Live While We Are Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are kiddies, chapter four! So sorry it took longer than the last few, but I was super duper busy the other week! Also, I'm combing through this chapter myself for editing as my beta is very busy, and I'm anxious to get this up. I'm sorry for anything I miss! I'll see about getting five and six out real soon to make up for the long wait!

_My Dearest John,_

_In my last letter I divulged a lot of personal information about us, so I hope you will feel comfortable if I keep on in that vein. I must confess, I'm not at all sure what I should be putting in these letters, but the doctors assured me that anything I can think to write will be a major help to you. They seem to think that something in these letters will trigger you to remember something. I can't wait for you to remember us John, I miss you so much. It's hard to sit here and watch you, knowing there's nothing I can do to really help you. Even these letters just seem so contrite._

_Well, I covered our first kiss in that last letter, so now let me expand a little on how we discovered our mutual attractions to one another._

_When we first met I was a computer programmer with Bart's, helping them design new software to help students train to become surgeons. It was actually a good job, pretty interesting, but after that was done I didn't feel like sticking around just to be some IT guy, so I left them. I already had a sizeable bank account thanks to my parents, so I started my own business. I became a consultant for weapons companies. The unfortunate part of this job was that I did make enemies, putting me into spots of trouble now and again all over the word._

_I loved my work. It was exciting, seeing the plans these people had for all sorts of weapons; chemical warfare, bombs, and computer programmes; it really opened my eyes to how governments worked. It also showed me how many governments needed me to come and fix things for them. I considered giving myself a slogan, 'Please Jim, will you fix it?' that was what most of them asked when hiring me. They ran into many problems their plebian minds couldn't figure out how to fix, so I came in and made the problem disappear. Some of the issues were quite pedestrian, while others took more time, and made me really think. I daresay I really enjoyed my new job._

_I am sure you are wondering how you fit in to all of this, well let me tell you John Watson, you really do love danger. I was consulting with a weapons company from China when you first saved my life._

_They had some issues with miscommunication between coders in China, the U.K., and America. The Americans had trouble deciphering the codes the London branch had sent in, so that resulted in a skewed code which in turn angered the Chinese businessmen. Tensions between the different branches of this company, aptly called The Black Lotus, started to rise as each group fought, each defending themselves against the mis-communicated code. There were even a few deaths before the London branch called me in to sort out the entire mess._

_I had been following the story of this cock up for a few days, so I was looking forward to being brought in on the case. It was interesting, far more interesting than any company I'd worked for in the past. The Chinese can be an intelligent bunch of people, cunning as well as elusive; my kind of people._

_I was brought in to work with The Black Lotus group at the beginning of January. It wasn't until the middle of the month that we both found ourselves in trouble. I had been working with the lead of the London branch when she related to me a few loose ends that needed to be tied up. I thought she was referring to the code, which I already knew about because I was working on them, but something about how she said it didn't sit right with me, so I did some digging. What I found went deeper than just a weapons coding company. What I was not aware of was that this company didn't only deal in weapons coding, but also the smuggling of drugs._

_By the time I figured out the inner working of The Black Lotus group, I was in too deep. They wouldn't let me go without securing their secrets, which suffices to say I would never escape with my life. Upon this realisation, I took out an insurance policy. I stole a jade pin from them, keeping it in my possession as a bargaining chip for my life after the completion of my job. I knew of its monetary value, so I knew they'd have to agree to my terms, but what I did not account for was the backlash my theft would create. Before the group realised it was I who possessed the pin, they'd already had two people murdered._

_After learning this, I came forward as being in possession of the pin, something they didn't see coming, which led to you being kidnapped by them. I daresay they jumped to a rather interesting conclusion concerning you, thinking you were my lover when you were only my flatmate at the time; they kidnapped you, holding you, demanding the pin for your life. What they did not count on was my own cunning intelligence._

_You were knocked unconscious by one of their thugs and taken from our flat. I was at the office working through their codes when I got the email along with a photo of you tied to a chair. It took but a minute's perusal before I knew where they were keeping you. Hiding someone in the sewers is so pedestrian, but it allowed for the perfect execution of my plan._

_I arrived, using the darkness as cover, but then again it didn't matter much because they weren't even intelligent enough to set up guard posts, which I'm not complaining about, but they could have made it much more interesting. The Black Lotus group, along with you, was situated at one end of a tunnel, flaming torches adding a touch of dramatic lighting to the whole situation. I was almost impressed with their plan, but they left so many holes._

_Seeing as the group was facing one direction, I counted on the acoustics of the tunnels to confuse them, making them all head off in one direction while I snuck up from another. It worked, just as I thought it would. My voice sounded from different directions, making them believe I was in one spot while really I was in another. I subdued three of the four goons which left the leader and her right hand man. As I stepped into the light I saw you struggling against your binds. There was a moment of panic, seeing you like that, but then I saw red. How dare they hurt you? I was livid, made even more so when I saw the crude weapon trained on you, a spear contraption of some sort. They had a sand bag held over the lever, a candle slowly burning away the rope attached to it. If I didn't act fast, the bag would fall, sending a spear straight through your chest; unacceptable._

_I approached the remaining two, each on the defensive, but with obvious smirks. They had the foolish notion they would win. That was hardly the case. I was pleased to notice that you had visibly relaxed when you saw me. It told me quite a lot John, but most importantly it told me that you trusted me…with your life. I was not going to lose that trust._

_I came to stand next to you, your sig placed in the waistband of my trousers. I knew you wouldn't approve when you saw it, which I was right about, but I was going to get us both out of the situation alive and in one piece. I placed my hand on the back of your chair, striking a casual sort of pose, less threatening so they would be more likely to not do something stupid and rash. They really were a bunch of idiots. I leaned against the chair, my attention fixed on the flame and rope, waiting for the right moment. It was rather easy to gain their attention. I had the pin with me. I made them believe I was bargaining for your life, but then the moment came. The rope snapped, the bag fell, and the spear flew._

_Thankfully I had timed it all perfectly, knocking your chair over just as the spear flew, drawing your gun, and downing the remaining players. I quickly untied you before the other thugs could come to and kill the both of us. As I bent to untie your wrists, I couldn't help but notice the wide grin on your face. I found it odd. Surely you'd be angry at being in such a situation, but as it was, you found it exhilarating. I had to smile back as I threw the rope off to the side. I pulled you to your feet and ordered you to run. We took off, keeping pace with each other as we ran through the tunnels, finally coming to the surface not fifteen minutes later. We ran down a few more streets before falling against a wall in an alley._

_Our shoulders touched as we fought to regain our breaths. I was trying so very hard not to think about how close you were, but then I heard you start to giggle…yes, giggle. I won't call it a laugh because it wasn't deep and from the gut. It was more…light and just coming from your throat. I looked over at you, at the mirth on your face. I couldn't have stopped myself if I tried. I started to giggle as well. You turned to regard me too, your giggles dying so that only a fond smile remained. I did the same, our eyes locked. For a moment I thought you were leaning into me, that we would kiss again, but then you spoke._

" _Oh wow that…that was just crazy Jim! I thought you just dilly dallied with computers!" you sounded astonished, and a bit pleased, which was a contradiction to the situation we were just in. You should have been furious for being in such a state, I mean; you very easily could have been killed!_

" _I suppose working with computers and codes is a bit more dangerous these days," I countered back, pushing off of the wall to place my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I kept a bemused smirk on my face._

_You followed suit, standing just in front of me now, "And I thought I was a daft bugger for signing up for war! Can you get into this much danger in the future?"_

_That was an intriguing question from you. I wasn't sure if you disapproved of the danger, or if it excited you. I think it was a mix of both. I could simply shrug in response. I had no clue what my future job would entail, so I couldn't honestly answer you, but then you stole my breath a moment later._

_You leaned forward. I sucked in a breath, unsure of what to expect. You kept your eyes on mine, leaning ever closer, and your hand coming up to encircle my waist. I was afraid you'd hear my heart pounding as you came even closer, but then I felt the press of cool metal sliding along my skin. You had leaned in to grab your gun. You raised a brow at me as you stepped back, but not enough to put a good distance between us. You looked down at the sig._

" _Were you counting on there being a shoot out?" you looked back at me with a brow raised in question._

_I grinned, shrugging one shoulder, "I had to make sure I saved my soldier's life somehow," I teased. I noted that you always seemed to respond well to a spot of flirting, so I decided to test the notion. Your cheeks reddened as you tucked the gun into the waist of your trousers._

" _Thanks Jim, I suppose I do owe you my life now," you leaned in, your elbow gently nudging my rubs._

_I scowled, bringing a hand up to rub at them, "Yes you do, so you best remember that the next time this happens," I shot right back, turning on my heel to head for the mouth of the alley intent on hailing a cab home. You chuckled, but followed close behind me. I noticed too, that night, that you erased an inch of space that previously lie between us. I itched to reach out and pull you closer so that I could be reassured you were alive, but just seeing that smile on your face for the next few days was so worth the turmoil._

_I also didn't fail to notice your pupils dilating in the alley as you leaned into me, the widening of your nostrils as you took in my scent, the jump of your sped up pulse as your hand brushed at my skin, or the batted breath as you slid the gun out of my trousers. There are many things you can try to hide from me John Watson, but your attraction to me is not one of them._

_I fear that is enough excitement for now love. You really do need to rest. I do hope you are finding these letters to be helpful. I have found them to be a sort of stress relief as I sit by your bedside, a means to get my feelings worked out while you sleep and heal. I cannot wait to see you again. Get some sleep, and I will be seeing you soon. Have a good night my love._

_Love Always,_

_JM_


	5. This Is Our Love Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is taking forever, but my beta and I are very busy, though her more than me. I'm picking through this chapter myself, so apologies up front on any errors I'm sure I missed, or missed brit-picking. Also, we know Jim is a huge prick, he becomes an even bigger one in this chapter with his manipulation of John and his memories. You guys are all so lovely! This story is way more popular than I had originally thought it might be. I cannot thank you all so much for making it so special! I promise things will make a lot more sense once Sherlock makes an appearance and the letters are done, but until then let’s see what more Jim has to say to dear Johnny boy! I hope you enjoy though! Everyone that leaves kudos and comments on this story just makes me all warm and fuzzy. Thank you all so much, it means so, so much to me!

_My Dearest John,_

_As you've gathered from my last letter, my new line of work has made me many enemies, but it had also given me allies. Allies who are quite loyal, though I'm not going to talk about them now, they're rather boring. I want to tell you about someone else, someone who is decidedly not boring, my biggest enemy; the most dangerous man London has ever known. He has been nothing more than a thorn in my side for a long time. He despises the work I do. He is constantly creating problems for me, trying to tear me down inch by inch; he will stop at nothing to see me completely reduced to nonentity. He is the vilest of men, and his name is, Sherlock Holmes._

_He poses as a consulting detective, assisting the NSY in cases they can't seem to solve, cases I believe he was the cause of, but really, his main objective is finding new ways in which to engage my attention. He is obsessed with challenging me, watching me squirm under his keen eye and intellect. I would be lying if I said I didn't slightly enjoy it, but it was the first time someone who shared my genius engaged with me. I was delighted, at first that was, until innocent lives became involved in his plans._

_Unlike myself, Sherlock is what psychologists call a Sociopath, he cares not for the lives he meddles with, which is what makes him the perfect enemy. He is a gorgeous, charming man, who makes his victims feel special. He is a very good actor, able to manipulate the feelings of those he is interacting with. He once had a woman believing they had attended uni together, had a one night stand, and shared three classes, when in reality they had never attended the same uni. He is cunning, unpredictable, elusive, intelligent, and crass. I had hoped his games would only involve me, but it wasn't long until he decided to include you._

_It was about two months after the first time you and I kissed that he began a new game with me, one that intrigued me at first. But soon turned very, very deadly._

_You already know the main source of my income is from fixing weapons systems for major, worldwide companies, but that isn't all I deal in. I will also go to smaller companies who desperately need my help, which is why I was working in a major financial company as a favour to an old uni friend when I got Sherlock's first message to come out and play._

_I was rewriting some ancient codes in order for the computer programs to work at a higher efficiency to allow clients and employees an advanced ease of access when my mobile alerted me to an email message. The sender was unknown; the title of the message was, 'The First Pip.'_

_I opened the email to see a programme code along with an attachment. The code made no sense out of context, especially with the photo that came with the email. It was a picture of old trainers. As soon as I exited the email a text message arrived. The text was as follows:_

The blue lagoon waits for no one; its icy depths wait to claim another.  
Hurry and fix it Jim, before the lagoon takes one more.-SH

_That message, accompanied by the code and photo, threw me. I had no idea what Sherlock was referring to, or what I needed to fix. I abandoned my post with the financial company and headed back to the flat. I needed to look at the code, analyse it to figure out what it was for. I could only surmise that, if I didn't solve this problem, Sherlock would hurt someone, maybe even kill them._

_You were in the flat when I arrived home. I barely greeted you as I moved with purpose to my computer. I needed to figure out the code he'd sent me. I knew it was a fragment of something larger, but I needed to find some component within to point me in the right direction. I had just turned my laptop on when I felt you hovering behind me._

_"Jim, is everything alright? You look…put out," you cocked your head a little as you spoke, your brows drawing together in question, one hand slightly raised as if to touch me to offer some form of comfort._

_"Yes, don't worry, I'll fix it," I muttered, absorbed in my task. You really couldn't do anything to help me John, plus I didn't need your sentiment clogging up the gears of my mind. I needed to focus. I do apologise now, here, again for how nastily I had treated you that day, but I had so much on my mind._

_"Well, alright, if you're sure I can't be of any help. Would you like some tea?" you started to walk towards the kitchen then. I only waved my hand in the air to dismiss you._

_I had a blown up image of the trainers open on my desktop. I kept going back and forth between the picture and code. So far I could only pinpoint a part of the code, which was mainly used by computer generated heating and cooling systems. That hardly helped anything. Just as you set a cup of tea next to me, my phone beeped again. This time it was a picture of a young man sitting stock still on a bench at a bus stop. He had a large coat on, but even with the material concealing most of him, I could make out wires peeking out of the collar._

Boom.-SH

_"Jesus is that man wearing a bomb?" you asked, incredulous as you snatched my phone away from me._

_I growled, standing up to grab it back, "It seems so John, now just let me work. I don't have long to solve this code before he, apparently, kills that man. Go do what you do best; sit down and shut-up." I really was stressed out John, it's almost a good thing you don't remember this period as I was rather nasty to you._

_Your jaws snapped shut. You turned on your heels, stalking over to the armchair where you sat down stiffly. I sighed, watching you pick up the telly remote to turn on some dull programme. You gave me one hard, cold, blue stare before focusing on the telly. I frowned, but turned back to the computer where I began to type hurriedly._

_"Did you know those particular trainers stopped being made in the late 80's?" your voice startled me after a half hour of strained silence. My head snapped up to regard you curiously._

_I must have had a questioning look on my face because you rolled your eyes before continuing. "Back when I was younger, those trainers were really popular, but really expensive. Every kid whose parents could afford them had them. Some kids even saved for months just to buy them. The craze didn't last long, but I remember begging my mum for a pair everyday for nearly two weeks. Don't know if that's helpful, but if you're going to save that man, I suppose you should know."_

_I was speechless. It took me a moment to realise what you had just said. I turned back to the photo, enlarging it a bit more. "John, you are a genius!" I exclaimed, closing the photo to open up the web browser. "Whoever owned this pair took very good care of them, worshipped them almost, so he saved himself for them. Cleaned them, made sure they never ended up in the wrong hands, but how did Sherlock get them…" I trailed off as I found what I needed. An article from when I was in high school. Thankfully the article had a photo._

_"What's he got to do with the case? It says he died over twenty years ago," I jumped. I hadn't heard you sneak up behind me. I turned to look at you._

_"Carl Powers. I attended school with him. He was a bully, always taunting and teasing the more intelligent students. He was an idiot himself, fantastic swimmer, but idiot human. He drowned during a swim meet, but I'd always thought there was more to the story. I'm starting to think he was murdered, and Sherlock Holmes had something to do with it." I closed the article going back to the code, it still made no sense to me other than it could be used for a heating and cooling system, and then it hit me; the pool._

_"You've got that look Jim, one that says you've just been clever…" you trailed off, backing away from the desk to allow me up. I started pacing._

_"The code, it's from a heating and cooling system, the message, the blue lagoon, obviously the pool…the pool where Carl Powers died. But why send me the code," I was talking to myself, completely ignorant of your presence. It was all starting to click into place. I stopped and looked at you, "That's it, there's a glitch in the code making the pool too hot. That's what the problem is," I sat back down, going through the code again, and there it was, a break in the code which wouldn't make the system stop heating the pool after it reached a certain temperature. I fixed the glitch and sent it to the email address I received it from. It took but a few minutes for a picture reply to come, the young man previously wearing a giant coat and sitting on a park bench was now running down the street, bomb free. I sighed, turning to look at you._

_You had an odd look on your face, which made my triumphant smile fade. You turned away from me. I was just opening my mouth to inquire why you looked so upset when my email signaled another message, this time the title was, "The Second Pip." Just like the first email, there was a photo, part of a code, which I now knew was broken somewhere, and a message._

_I was delighted now, finally someone was challenging me. I will admit I thought nothing of the people whose lives were on the line, but finally, finally someone was entertaining me. I let out a little giggle of excitement as I settled in to solve the next problem. I will admit too, that I didn't notice when you grabbed your coat and left our flat, not until I received a message to stop my heart._

_I was just finishing the fourth pip, a code causing the astronomy programme to glitch, when I noticed you were missing and the tea next to me had gone cold. I sent Sherlock the corrected code, then stood to stretch the muscles in my back. I pulled my mobile out to see if you'd messaged me, but just as I turned my phone one, a message from Sherlock greeted me. I opened the message. Seeing the photo there, my mobile fell to the floor as my hand grew slack. He had you. For some irrational reason my head whipped around, scanning the flat to make sure you were there, but I knew you weren't. My heart thundered in my chest as I bent to grab my mobile, reading the message again._

Deep into the blue, unless you bring me what I want. Midnight is only the beginning.-SH

_I went back to my computer; sure enough there was another email. This time the code was one I recognised. I'd just finished work on it two weeks ago for the British government. Andrew West had contacted me. He'd been having some issues with the final bit of the code. It had taken me quite a while to fix it, but I managed. I'd given him back his flash drive, only to learn he'd been killed two days later, flash drive stolen. Now the code was back, staring me in the face. I checked the clock. I only had an hour to figure out what Sherlock wanted me to do, but for the life of me John, there was nothing I could see that was wrong with the code. I started at the beginning, scanning through it three times, before, finally, at 11:45PM I saw it. There was a number sequence out of order. I quickly fixed it and grabbed my own flash drive to load the information onto before leaving. I was going to collect you myself._

_I arrived at the pool at midnight. I walked into the dark, eerie area. Blue water lapped at the concrete edges. My footsteps echoed in the enclosed space. I had my hands gripped behind my back, your gun sitting snug against the small of my back. I had gotten into a nasty habit of stealing your gun, forgive me, but it's come in quite handy. I stopped midway into the pool area. My eyes scanned around, hoping to catch sight of you, but then a movement caught my attention. You stepped out from the restroom area, a large, ugly, green parka on. You had your hands in the pockets. You lifted your head to meet my gaze. My eyes widened in disbelief._

_"Well, this is a turn up, isn't it Jim?" your voice wavered slightly._

_I narrowed my gaze, confused, my heart racing. All I could hope was that you had nothing to do with everything that was going on. I swallowed the lump in my throat, "John?"_

_Before you had a chance to say more, a tall, lanky man stepped out of the shadows. He wore a dark coat, hanging down to his ankles. He had a mop of dark, curly hair atop his head. His hands were in his pockets, a sick smile curving his lips, "Jim, so nice to join your pet and me. We've been having a grand ol' time, show him Johnny," his voice was deep, sinister, just as his grey coloured eyes as they raked over you._

_My hackles rose as he did that. I looked between the two of you, "I've got what you want. Let him go and I'll hand it over." I held the flash drive up, letting it catch the faint light cast from the depths of the pool._

_Sherlock grinned, moving forward. He came to stand next to you. His eyes looked at the drive, and then he held his hand out, "Good boy Jim, I knew we'd have such fun together," he replied icily. I set the device into his palm, keeping my demeanor calm, while inside I was a roiling mass of hatred and rage. How dare he do such a thing to you!_

_He had just closed his fist around the small device when you launched yourself onto his back. He barely staggered as your arms clamped around his neck. "John!" I couldn't help but blurt, taking an involuntary step back._

_"Go Jim, get out of here. I've got him," you were struggling to keep your hold on him. He was a good six inches taller than you._

_Sherlock giggled, sounding like a mad man, "Oh look Jim, such a loyal pet, but…then again…" he trailed, looking manic as bouncing red dots appeared on my chest. You took one look and immediately let go, stepping back with your arms raised._

_"Let him go, I've given you what you want Sherlock," I hissed, but then my eyes widened as the he tossed the flash drive into the pool._

_"I don't need it Jim; I just wanted to see how far you'd go. It's good to see that the good of Britain isn't in your hands because you'd just hand it over for a nice piece of arse," his grin was sickening as he leered at me._

_I growled, my hands curling at my sides before I remembered I had your gun. I reached back and grabbed it, raising it to aim at Sherlock's head. Your eyes went wide at the sight. "Jim, where did you…why…?" you couldn't seem to finish your thought._

_Sherlock's eyes widened in glee, "Oh, lookie here boys, we've got a fighter," his voice lowered, turning icier as he spoke; "can you kill me faster than my snipers can take out your little pet. Should we see who wins? I'm betting I'll be the victor here Jim," his voice was a cold snarl, his mercuric eyes shimmering with the distorted light._

_I had no choice but to lower the gun. I couldn't risk you. My eyes darted over your form. The parka slightly obscured the wired vest strapped to your chest. My skin crawled at the sight. I looked at Sherlock again, meeting his gaze, "I will kill you," I hissed, stepping closer to him._

_Sherlock giggled, taking a step back, smoothing his hands down the suit jacket he was wearing beneath his coat, "I very much doubt you will my dear Jim, now, look after Johnny boy for me will you, I should like to come play again. Ciao for now," he raised his hand, snapping his fingers. The laser sights disappeared from your chest and mine. Sherlock was already walking away. He rounded a corner. I heard a door open, and then slam shut._

_I didn't waste a second, rushing forward to tear the coat and vest from you. I threw the vest across the floor; it slid a ways away, stopping near the changing rooms. I didn't care. My hands came up to grip your waist as you started to sag towards the wall._

" _We should be careful," you muttered, swaying dangerously before steadying yourself with your back against the wall._

_My eyes were frantically searching your person for any signs of injury. Seeing only a small red spot, slowly turning black on your temple, I surmised you weren't horribly injured. My hands remained on your waist, holding you against the wall, "What?" I asked you, breathless, my fingers curling in the material of your jumper._

_You huffed out a breath, the corner of your mouth curling in a slight smirk, "You undressing me in a darkened pool, people might talk," you muttered, blue eyes panicked, but steady, gazing into my own panicked gaze._

_I gave a small snort, "People do little else," I replied quietly, my breath gently blowing against your lips. My gaze lowered there. Your tongue poked out to wet your chapped lips. I groaned at the sight before dragging my gaze back up to your face._

_You gave a slight nod, as if reading my mind. I sucked in a breath as I began to slowly lean forward, giving you time to pull away if you changed your mind. Still, I'm not sure if it was adrenaline or nerves that made me so bold, but I soon fitted my lips against yours. My hands smoothed along your waist to curl around your back, pulling you tightly against my body._

_You trembled in my tightened hold. A moan of pleasure was swallowed by my lips as they opened to welcome your questing tongue. My own tongue came out to meet yours, to trace along the wet, bumpy surface before curling around it. My fingers dug into your back, reassuring myself that you were still there for me to hold onto, your own arms wrapping around my hips, anchoring yourself to me. In that moment we were desperate to reassure ourselves that we lived, that we'd survived the genius games of a mad man. We stayed that way for a long while, tongues exploring and mapping each others' mouth, only pulling back when the need to breath became too much._

_I looked into your eyes, my hand coming up to gently brush through your golden hair, "John," I breathed. There was so much I wanted to say, but you leaned forward, giving me a soft, chaste kiss to quiet my thoughts._

" _I know Jim just…just take me home, please?" your lips were so red and swollen. I leaned forward, nipping at them before resting my forehead against yours, "I want to go home with you," you said again, your warm breath hitting my cheeks._

_I nodded with my forehead still pressed to yours, "We're alive; you're alive." I couldn't think to say much else so I threaded my fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly and leading you out of the pool and towards home._

_That's the night I realised how much you truly meant to me John. I also realised how close I'd come to losing you. I vowed to never let that happen again. No one would ever take you away from me. I needed you, and I think you needed me too. We added to each others' lives, and one without the other was unfathomable, so I took you home that night John. Nothing was ever the same since._

_Rest now; our story will continue in the next letter._

_Love Always,  
_

_JM._


	6. And Tonight We Sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took forever again, but this time part of it was out of my hands. My brand new laptop decided it had a malfunctioning motherboard so that put my laptop out of use for almost a week, and then there is the fact I got a new laptop and the fact that I'm now using word 2010 rather than 2007. Anyways, on top of all that I've been sick and then there were the holidays. Anyways, I'm done talking. Fair warning, there be porn ahead! Thanks as always go to meddlingAdler for her amazing betaing skills! Also, really long chapter to make up for the wait! You guys rock so hard and I love you all!

_My Dearest John,_

_The cab ride home from the pool was a bit of a blur. I was only aware of the points where our bodies were touching. We kept stealing glances at one another, both of us too afraid to really say anything. My hands kept fiddling about in my lap. I couldn't pin point a single thought that went racing through my head._

_Well no, that's a bit of a lie. There was one thing I couldn't stop thinking about, or even stop fretting over, and that was the kiss we shared in the pool. I found myself worrying over its meaning and if anything more would come from it, what you were feeling, what it would change between us, and if we could finally become more than friends._

_All too soon we arrived at the flat. I hopped out of the cab, eager to get away from you so I might be able to sort my thoughts. I threw a few notes at the driver before turning away. I heard you call my name as you tried to catch up, but the door slammed in your face. That gave me enough time to make it to the lifts before you finally caught me. I resolutely tried to ignore you, but then your hand, that damn hand, clasped over my bicep._

_"Jim?" your voice was low yet firm. I glanced over at you before looking ahead again as the lift door opened. "Jim, why are you giving me the cold shoulder all of a sudden?"_

_Your hand fell away. I sighed, hitting the button for our floor. I put my hands into the pockets of my suit jacket and finally regarded you. You flashed me an unsure grin. I'm not sure exactly what the look on my face conveyed, but your faltering grin didn't last long and you turned your gaze to the lift doors. I frowned, wondering then if I was ruining what could happen between us. I studied your face, looking to see how you were feeling about the situation._

_Oddly enough I noted you were disappointed, but what you were disappointed about I couldn't be sure of. You looked a bit sheepish, as if you were embarrassed by something. Good God, John Watson, you baffled me! You had nothing to be embarrassed about, but yet you were. The lift doors opened on our floor. I stepped out quickly with you shuffling behind. You didn't try to catch up with me this time, which was fine because I had so much to puzzle over. I unlocked our door and pushed it open._

_Before I even had a chance to kick off my shoes you grabbed my arm to spin me around to face you. I looked at you, my eyes blinking in confusion as I studied you. You looked mad. Quite mad. I swallowed thickly, "John?"_

_You let go of my arm, crowding me back until I had the door against my back. I was almost afraid of you, but I knew that even in your blackest mood you'd never hurt me. I waited to see what you would do or say. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before your voice finally came out._

_"Bloody hell Jim, are you going to ignore me and what we just did. I'd like to talk about it because it's not every day I go and kiss a bloke in a darkened pool area. Hell, it's not even every day that I even kiss a bloke like we had just done." You broke off to study my features. I quickly schooled them into a mask of impassiveness because I did not want to get my hopes up if nothing were to come of us._

_I cleared my throat, "Forgive me John, but I thought you might like to leave the kiss as it was. I know you're not gay or have any attraction to men and that it was just a spike of adrenaline and emotions."_

_You looked incredulous for a moment before you barked out a laugh. I frowned, a bit put off by your sudden mood swing. Sometimes I wondered if you were secretly or formerly a female. You do tend to jump around a bit. I waited for you to rebuke me or to correct me if I was wrong, and being honest, I really hoped you'd correct me._

_"You think that, in a moment of distress I'd kiss a bloke? I've been in warzones Jim, I can hold my own under extreme pressure, and yes, I will admit I was bloody terrified I'd be blown to pieces, but I wasn't so out of my mind that I had no idea what I was doing when I kissed you. Look, I apologise if I read the situation wrong, but I felt like there was something building between us ever since the night I…I uh taught you how to kiss. I thought it had come to a head tonight in the pool, and I acted rashly. I am sorry though if it was something you didn't want, but we can't ignore it. I want to know how you feel Jim because I can't read you like you can read me and I need you to talk to me."_

_John Hamish Watson, I don't think you will ever cease to amaze me. I was speechless. My heart was pounding fiercely in my chest. If you were just a bit closer to me I think you would have felt it. I was speechless. You had more or less just admitted you were feeling the same as I had been feeling for a long time. I had no idea what to do with that information. I often envy your simple thinking process John, to be so accepting of the information so quickly and looking for it to be addressed so quickly by me. I still have no idea why you think I can process emotions as quickly as you._

_You were looking at me, waiting for me to reply to you. I took too long to properly respond and you looked at me sadly. You nodded your head once, as if acknowledging that I didn't feel the same. Your hand slipped off of my arm. You nodded your head once, slowly, sadly, as you spoke, "I see, please forgive me Jim," and then you turned away heading towards your room._

_I watched you walk away for a moment before I regained my faculties. I moved forward. I had come too far to lose you now over the fact that I couldn't properly sort my thoughts at the moment, but I did have to do something. I grabbed your arm and spun you around to face me. Your eyebrows shot to your forehead as you studied me, your eyes squinting and a word forming on your mouth, but before you could voice it, I dove forward to claim your lips._

_I could go on forever about your lips John, but they are so firm and a bit chapped…rugged just like you are. I enjoyed the way they caught my lips, almost like they were teasing me, begging my tongue to come out and soothe them. I would never deny you the comfort._

_As I surged forward my arms wrapped tightly around you to draw you close, and for a moment I had the silly notion that I could just get you tucked up inside of me so that you could never leave me or doubt me ever again. I needed you to feel what I was feeling because I couldn't voice it. I really hoped you could see what I wanted to show you as my fingers fitted to the back of your head, flitting through the soft strands of your hair._

_I'm not sure which of us moaned, but the sound was swallowed between us. As we stood in the centre of our flat our bodies fit themselves together as our lips melded. I could feel the tips of your fingers digging into my waist as he scrambled to hold onto my shirt. I loved the slight hiss of pain your blunt nails caused. I pulled my head back, grinning as your head followed, still searching for my lips._

" _John," I breathed, the word caressing your lips and cheek, following the path of my fingertips as they just barely touched your skin, aflame with passion. I stared at you, committing this gorgeous picture of you into my memory because I wanted to remember what you looked like in this moment, the moment where finally something good was happening in my life. My hands came up to cup your cheeks as I leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "John, will you let me show you what I can't seem to tell you?"_

_God I nearly broke my resolve to have you agree when I saw you nibble your lower lip in a moment of apprehension. My sight was riveted by the sight before the slow nod of your head caught my attention. My blood warmed in my veins as you gave your consent, "If that's what it will take Jim," you muttered just before I gently placed my lips against yours, easing you into a deep, desperate kiss. My hands came down to your lower back where I pulled your hips against mine. I pushed my tongue gently into your mouth, exploring the crevices. I needed to map you so that I could save the information in the vast stretches of my mind._

_I gently pulled my lips from yours, having caught your lower one between my teeth. I loved the shiver of pleasure I felt roll down your spine underneath my fingertips. I grinned as your lip finally fell free from my grasp. I studied your lips, swollen and pink, slowly turning red from the attention I laved on them. Simply divine Johnny. I slipped my hands around your hips to thread my fingers with yours. I steadied a look into your deep, blue eyes. The pupils were blown, a flush coloured your neck, the pulse point in your neck was jumping erratically, and all of that was because of me. I smiled softly as I gently led you towards my room._

_I kept my grip light so that you could turn away if you wanted to, but after we crossed the threshold, I'm afraid to say, I wouldn't let you go. I turned us so that your back was to the bed. I leaned forward, my lips just barely moving across your own, "Lie back John," I whispered, applying gentle pressure to your chest to give you more of a hint._

_You complied, almost eagerly, as you kicked off your shoes and scooted back to lean against the head board. I grinned, standing at the side of the bed. I shrugged out of my jacket, walking over to place it on the back of the chair at my desk. I then reached up and loosened my tie, letting the strands fall down my chest before I gripped one side to pull it all the way off. I draped it over my jacket. I looked up to see you eagerly watching me, your tongue making an appearance every so often to wet your lips. I could feel myself growing so very hard under your scrutiny._

_I moved to stand at the end of the bed, my fingers slowly pushing the buttons of my shirt through their holes. I'm not entirely sure what the grin on my face was conveying, but all I could feel was a mixture of emotions, predominantly euphoria as I watched you shift, the bulge of your cock pressing against the seam of your jeans. God what a bulge it is too. My mouth began to water at the sight. I couldn't wait to taste you._

_"C'mon Jim, hurry it up, you're killing me," you growled. I hadn't even noticed the progress of my undressing had stopped when I began to study you._

_I smirked, resuming the journey of unbuttoning my shirt, "Patience Johnny boy. You must behave yourself or there will be no treat for you," I called out in a sing song tone. I heard a growl low in your chest. You sat forward as if to come after me, but I managed to stay you with a pointed, lustful look. You whimpered, settling back, shifting your legs once more._

_I couldn't wait any longer as I pulled the shirt from my frame. I needed to feel you. I crawled up onto the bed, moving towards you, throwing my leg over your hips to settle on top of you. I leaned forward, your arms coming up to wrap around me, your fingertips digging gently into my skin. I hissed as your nails bit into my flesh, grinning as the pain mixed with the pleasure. I bit your neck in retaliation._

_"Oh God, Jim," you groaned, your hips pushing up into my own. I shivered feeling your hard lines against me._

_"Shhhh Johnny, just let me taste you here," I muttered, dragging my tongue and teeth down the column of your neck. I shivered so deliciously under me, your fingers digging even deeper into the flesh of my back._

_I smoothed my hands down your chest, the rough fabric of your hideous jumper catching before I could grip the hem. I had to leaned back to pull the thing over your head. I never hated that you wore more than one layer until the moment. I growled seeing the button up beneath the jumper. I set to work immediately forcing the buttons through their holes. I leaned down, kissing and nibbling at the skin that was exposed to me as each button came undone. I kissed my way down the centre of your chest, reveling in the soft hairs that brushed against my lips as I worked towards your navel. I dipped my tongue into it, loving the noise you made when I did so. I tipped my head back a little to see the looks passing over your face as I nibbled around the edge of your navel. I was so overcome; I nearly lost my focus due to the urge to just take you._

_"Jim…fuck, you're driving me crazy," you shifted your hips again, this time rolling them against my chest. I chuckled, digging my teeth into the soft flesh between your navel and groin area. You jerked against the sensation, your hands coming to grip my head. I felt your fingers digging into my scalp, subtly trying to push me further down. I grinned against your flesh as I realised what you wanted. I looked up at you, grinning like a shark as I shuffled back to rest on my knees between your slightly spread legs._

_I smoothed my hands up your thighs, reveling in the strength I felt there. I smoothed my hand over your groin, stroking the outline of your hard cock trapped beneath. I smirked, reaching up to pop the button of your trousers. I gently pulled the zipper down, dragging my knuckle teasingly down your length, feeling it grow and twitch under my ministration. I leaned back slightly to gently ease your trousers down, revealing your strangely coloured pants. I will admit, I'd never seen red pants on anyone before, and I was rather bemused to see you wearing them. You must have caught onto my thoughts because when I looked up you were looking away, the blush on your cheek matching the colour of your pants._

_I grinned, leaning up to gently turn your head to look at me, "You're gorgeous John Watson," I breathed before ghosting my lips over yours._

_You let out a soft sound, your hands coming to grip my hips, the tips of your thumbs going under the hem of my trousers to trace along my hip bones. You leaned up to press a much harder kiss to my lips, "I'm hardly gorgeous Jim, not with the scars and such," you muttered, trying to duck your head under my chin to avoid eye contact. I felt you press a kiss against my throat._

_I frowned. I hardly figured you'd be self-conscious of a war wound. I moved back a little so that our eyes could meet. I grinned at you, keeping our eyes locked as I moved to your left shoulder. I heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the grip on my hips tightening. I'm not sure if you were afraid or eager for my touch, so I lowered my lips to the center of the ragged, star shaped scar marring your flesh._

_The skin was much smoother than the rest covering your body. No hair grew there. My lips brushed over the pink portion of the scar where the bullet struck and moved out to the darker flesh where you were crudely operated on in the field before following a pale web the branched out from when they operated on an infection that had set in. I truly detested the scar John for what it could have done to you, but I also adored it because it brought you to me. I traced my tongue along another web, following it back to the centre where I brushed another kiss onto it. I lifted my head to look at you again, "Beautiful John," I whispered again before lowering to kiss along your shoulder, nibbling at your pulse point and sucking to leave my mark._

_"Thank you," you stuttered out, voice laden with emotion as I worked my way back to your lips, where I proceeded to kiss you breathless with nothing my the wet slide of tongue and gentle nip of teeth._

_"No John, thank you," I sighed, moving back down your body to resume where I'd left off. I pulled your jeans all the way off along with your socks. Your red pants still amused me, but I had more carnal pursuits in mind when I saw your length throbbing beneath. I groaned as I leaned forward to bury my nose against you, breathing in your earthy, musky scent. I could live off the smell of you; it shot straight to my own groin._

_I opened my mouth, letting my warm, moist breath caress the material encasing you, teasing you to draw out the pleasure. I wanted to draw this out as long as possible. I had been dreaming of this very situation for so long; I intended to enjoy it to its fullest._

_I poked my tongue out to flatten against the cloth over your hard cock, dragging it up the fabric then nipping at the skin just above you waistband. I smirked as your hips stuttered beneath me, begging me to free you. My hands gently skimmed up and down your thighs, loving the soft hairs that stirred beneath my touch. I scooted back a little more to nip at the insides of your thighs, close to your groin._

_I think you were beyond words now because the only sounds spilling from your lips were incoherent mumbling, whimpers, and moans. They all sounded so gorgeous. I dragged my tongue up the inside of your thigh and curled it under the white border of the band around your leg. I pulled it back out, finally hooking my fingers under the band of your pants and slowly pulled them down. I chuckled at the look on your face, nothing but pure want and desire with an odd mix of something else I couldn't quite place at the time._

_"Not fair, you need…Jim…trousers off," you panted. I ignored you, watching the long, hard, thick length of your cock jump free and flop against your stomach, throbbing with want, and who was I to deny such a beautiful erection._

_"In time dear Johnny boy, in time," I finally replied as I lowered to nuzzle my nose into the dip next to your cock. I groaned at the completely masculine scent that greeted me. I smoothed a hand up your thigh to wrap around your length. I stroked my hands up to the swollen head, my thumb smearing the precum around the purple tip of your cock. I grinned, hearing the hitch in your breath as I did so. I gently traced the nail of my thumb through the slit before sliding my hand down to hold you at your base. I shuffled around a little so that I could take you into my mouth. I wrapped my lips around you, letting my tongue swirl around your tip, tasting what it was that made up your essence. I was never addicted to anything in my life John, but just that one taste of you was like the world's strongest drug. I knew I'd never be able to give it up._

_I groaned, letting the sound vibrate over you. You gasped above me, your hands once again finding my scalp. You tried not to push me John, but you couldn't help yourself. I loved that I could do this to you; make you completely compliant beneath me._

_Encouraged to continue, I slid my mouth down, taking more of you until the head of your cock knocked the back of my throat. I swallowed around you, your hips responding to the feel as they pushed your cock even further down my throat. I hummed in appreciation. One of my hands reached beneath my chin to cup your balls. The weight of them fit so nicely in the palm of my hand. I moaned, feeling your cock twitch as I slid my thumb down your sac between your balls. I hallowed my cheeks, sucking hard as I drew my head up your shaft, my thumb smoothing over a ball as I gripped the base of your cock so that my tongue could torture the swollen head of you._

_I did appreciate the fact that you are circumcised for it made pleasing you much easier, though I would have enjoyed teasing you with your foreskin if you had it. I closed my lips around the head once more, my nails gently dragging over your balls as I lapped at the precum leaking from your hole. God John, the taste of you was nearly enough to set me off. I continued to lavish your cock with my tongue, occasionally dragging my teeth very gently along the vein on the underside of your cock before I pulled off._

_"Jim…ah…close," you huffed out as I settled on my knees to look up at you. I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth to clean up the spittle and precum there. I leaned back and started to undo my trousers._

_"Not yet Johnny, no cumming without me," I said quietly as I drug my zip down, teasing you. Your hands clenched in the sheets at your sides. I chuckled at just how utterly wrecked you were. Your cock was leaking against your stomach as I wiggled myself free of my trousers and pants, throwing them onto the floor._

_As soon as the hard length of my cock was freed it bounced up against my stomach. I reached down to give myself a few pulls._

_"Jesus Jim, you look…God you're gorgeous," you breathed out. I grinned, proud of the admiration pouring from your lips. I leaned up to give you a quick kiss. I lowered my body so that we could finally touch, skin to skin. Your hands came to my waist and smoothed down my sides to grip my waist. You pulled me down, your nose and mouth coming into contact with my ear, your hot breath tickling the flesh, "I've never…ah…gone this far with a man before," you admitted in a shy little whisper._

_I smiled, endeared beyond belief that I'd been given this right. I raised myself up on my arms, hands resting on either side of your head. I had no words John, nothing I could say to express my gratitude and feelings for you so I lowered myself to capture your lips in a hot, searing kiss made up of teeth, tongue, and desire._

_I plundered your mouth with my tongue as I snaked a hand down between our bodies, which, focused now on something other than the divine taste of you, I found were slicked with a fine sheen of sweat. I groaned into your mouth, my fingers slipping down your chest easily. I maneuvered myself to my knees and lowered my hips. We both gasped as our cocks brushed against each other. I pulled my lips from yours for a moment, "I'll take care of you Johnny, just let go for me okay," I whispered between kisses peppered along your jaw._

_I felt you nod your consent. I nodded too as I wrapped my hand around our erections. You bent your head back, your hips moving up, savouring the contact. I started to move my hips, my cock sliding along yours, our precum, sweat, and my saliva mixing to form a perfect lubricant for us. Soon you began to move your hips as well creating a delicious friction between our cocks. I groaned, still hardly believing we were doing this, or that I was doing this with you. God it was amazing._

_As I felt my orgasm building I tightened my grip around our cocks, squeezing them even closer to each other. I could sense from your incoherent babble and trembling that you were close John, so very close to going over the edge. I wanted us to cum together though John, so I slowed the pull a bit, swiping my thumb over the head of my own cock, but then I felt your hand join mine. My hips stuttered in their movement and I opened my eyes to look down at you. I grinned. The blue of your eyes had gone so dark against the blackness of your pupils blown so wide in desire._

_"Oh God John," I groaned, the burning in the pit of my stomach growing and combusting as the edge of pleasure came nearer. I lowered my head to nibble at your lips, your fingers twining with mine to push me even closer, the calluses on your hands making me shiver._

_"Come on Jim, cum for me," you breathed, and a burst of bright white light blinded me. I felt a warm wetness coat my fingers as a strangled noise burst from my lips._

_I'd never felt anything so divine before. I soon felt your body tense up, and then more warm wetness coated my fingers as you called out my name with your release. I slowly removed my hand from our cocks, panting now, my arm trembling with the effort of holding myself up from collapsing on you. With a final effort I managed to push myself over to roll onto my back. I worked to catch my breath._

_"Wow…that was…just wow," you huffed next to me. I could hear the smile in your voice. It made me grin too. I struggled to sit up. I bent over to grab a tissue from the table next to my bed. I wiped my hand clean and offered you the same tissue. You cleaned yourself up as well before giving the soiled tissue back. I tossed it onto the table before returning my attention to you._

_"Just imagine what it will be like next time," I teased, shuffling down to lie next to you. You chuckled, turning onto your side and sliding your arm over my waist. I turned myself a little to face you, my hand coming to cup your cheek, gently smoothing it along your skin, drawing you close to press a chaste kiss to your lips._

_"I look forward to it," you breathed, eye lids drooping slightly as everything from the day finally caught up to you. I smiled as I watched you fall asleep. I pulled the duvet up and over our bodies before settling in next to you. I felt you nuzzle under my chin so I wrapped my arms around you to hold you close as we fell asleep together._

_"Goodnight Johnny, sweet dreams," I whispered, kissing your temple before burying my nose into the soft strands of your hair before falling away into the best sleep of my life._

_Now, I do hope we've come far enough for this letter to not frighten you. I admit it may have come rather quick, but the doctors advised me that writing the most important moments of our life together would be the best help for you. I know you might be struggling with what this letter contains, so just take a deep breath John, count to fifteen and lay back. I know it might be a bit hard to get comfortable in a hospital bed, but know that by reading this letter you are mere steps away from coming back to me. There are only a few more letters John, and then we can have our life back._

_Get some rest now; I'll be with you again tomorrow. I can't wait to see your gorgeous eyes once more._

_Love Always,_

_JM._


	7. We Are What Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks and kudos to my, now, two amazing betas, MedlingAdler and Grizziesmom, both of whom you should all check out!

_My Dearest John,_

_As you may know, following such a night as we just had described in my last letter, is the traditional morning after. I didn't sleep much following our activities, and not because I had any misgivings or fear of you slinking off in the middle of the night, but because I still couldn't believe we stepped over the traditional friend line. For so long I'd wanted us to become more than just flatmates, and it had finally happened. I had the foolish notion that you'd disappear if I fell asleep, so it was simple to just stay up all night, reveling in the intimacy we now shared._

_Right before sunrise I started to worry how you'd react to waking up with me. I tried to shift away from you to leave you so we could talk when you were ready, but your arms tightened their hold around my waist. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I settled back in, waiting for you to wake up._

_I had quite a bit of time to think while you were content to sleep on. I wondered what would become of us after such a night. You'd spent so much time with females, and for as long as I had known you, you only went on dates with females. I knew the prospect of a relationship with a man didn't bother you, but I didn't know how open you were to it. I started to wonder if we'd even be a proper couple after this, if it'd be a one off, or if we'd be friends with benefits. I don't have to tell you which one I'd hoped would be true, but I was willing, at the time, to give you whatever you needed because I just wanted to be close to you. I know it must sound a bit lovey to you, coming from me, but being able to write down all these things rather than look you in the eyes and tell you makes it much simpler to share…I find I'm more comfortable writing out what I might feel rather than talk about it. I'm still not very good at dealing with emotions._

_But I fear I'm digressing. Back to the main point of this letter, the morning after, and what would come of our night. I found myself hoping you'd wake soon so I could quiet my mind, stop doubting things, thinking of worst case scenarios, and so on. I fear my mind is a difficult thing to control, but while we were together the previous night it had become silent. I hadn't noticed at the time because all of my focus was on you, but now, thinking about it…there was nothing in my head but you, which is a very rare occurrence._

_At first when I realised this, I was shocked and a bit frightened. I didn't know what to think of the silence, but the more I contemplated it, dissected it, and remembered how it felt, I found that the silence was…oddly comforting. I was so used to thoughts, puzzles, problems, and the need for constant data to keep my head from exploding that I'd never once thought about what it'd be like to be free from all of that. I found myself grinning. Once I realised I had a mad grin on my face I ducked my head to press against your chest. It was rather frightening how ecstatic I was from a night of sex with you. I was almost frightening myself, I couldn't think of how my state of mind at the moment might affect you, but I didn't have to wait too long to find out._

_You were slow to wake. I noticed the subtle shift in breathing as your chest dipped down deep, a yawn escaping your lips above my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that when you fully woke you wouldn't be shocked with me in your arms. I kept as quiet and still as I could until you started to fidget._

" _Er, Jim, do you think you could roll forward just a little? My arm has completely gone to sleep," you said softly._

_I imagine you were blushing as you asked, your voice always quivers very slightly when you feel embarrassed. I smiled to myself, but complied with your request and rolled forward a little. I felt you draw your arm back, a groan escaping your lips._

" _Thanks, that feels much better," you said, the smile evident in your voice._

_I finally turned to face you, our heads level while lying next to each other. I didn't know what to say to you._

_You smiled softly. Even first thing in the morning you're gorgeous John. The sun lights your hair aglow, all golds, browns, and anything in-between. I reached towards you slowly so that I might not disrupt you and to give you a chance to pull away if you wanted. But you just leaned your head forwards. The tips of my fingers gently brushed the feathered ends of your hair across your forehead, revealing the deep oceanic colour of your eyes. I couldn't help but grin back at you. It was so hard to believe that this wasn't a dream; that I was actually with you._

_Blissful silence settled around us for a few moments before you let out a sigh…_ that sigh. _I watched you push yourself up to sit against the headboard. I remained where I was lying for a little bit before following suit._

" _You do know we need to talk about this, right?" your voice was so quiet I almost had to strain to hear it._

_I let out a frustrated breath, "Yes, of course I know we must John, but I already know what you're going to tell me," I managed to blurt out rather quickly, not even bothering to look at you._

_It was quiet after I spoke so I chanced a look at you. You had a smug grin on your face with your left eyebrow cocked._

" _Oh, what am I going to say? Enlighten me?"_

_I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face, I think you enjoyed making me squirm. Not many people ever accomplish such a task. I glanced at you once more before fixing my gaze firmly on the duvet. It's much easier to speak to an inanimate object that it is to speak to you, which I now know was completely illogical, but…sentiment and all that._

_I breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly and began._

" _You're going to tell me that this was a one off. It was something we kind of just fell into, given the high emotions from last night. Our lives were on the line. We were quite close to death. Sleeping together was just a way for us to relieve the stress and celebrate being alive. You date women. You may have had some blokes in the past, but you want a more stable future; a wife, kids, that whole lot." I had to look up then John so that I could convince you of the next words I was about to speak._

_I smiled then, small and grateful, "I understand John, really. I'm not looking for more, and having one night together is perfectly fine. We can pretend it never happened. You can go back to your girlfriend and I'll just be me. It doesn't have to change anything at all between us. We're flatmates and friends. I'm fine with that…it's good, it works."_

_I was thankful in that moment that you were such a simple minded man, because then you could see right through every single one of those lies. I turned my head away so I didn't have to look at you while you confirmed everything I had just said. It was already hard enough to hear it once from my own lips. Before I could fully look away, however, you caught my chin and forced my gaze back to yours. I blinked, my face an impassive mask just waiting for you to get through with me. You forced our gazes to meet. Your lips curled into a small smile right before you spoke._

" _Well I can see what you think of me now," you said lightly. I knew not to be offended because your voice had that teasing tone you liked to use so much. I huffed, rolling my eyes. I opened my mouth to respond to your remark, but you shushed me._

" _No, it's my turn to talk and to tell you what_ I _want to say. First off, everything you said before is complete shite. You should know that right now. I was completely in control of myself last night and I knew what I was doing. I am an adult, and I can say no, Jim. I would have had no qualms telling you to stop last night if it was something I really didn't want. I wanted last night just as much as you did. I don't regret what we did, and I don't want it to be a one off." You held your hand up again to stay me from speaking. I started to squirm a bit uneasily, wanting to speak, but you kept making me bite my tongue._

" _No, I'm not done yet, Jim. You need to hear everything I have to say and want to say. You're right, I was into women. But you've been too busy lately to notice my lack of female companionship. I quit seeing them when I realised I was beginning to develop feelings for you. I really can't tell you when or how it happened. One night sitting in my chair, working my way through the crossword puzzle, I happened to look up and see you. You were sitting at your laptop, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nibbled it, deep in concentration," I shivered when your thumb caressed my lower lip, "It just slammed into my gut how vulnerable and human you are when you think no one can see you. You've got one of the most brilliant minds in London…the world, but at that moment, you were stuck with something. I watched you try to figure out whatever it was you were working on, and I just couldn't get over the fact that you are just like the rest of us._

" _As I watched you my mind skipped back to all the moments I never noticed how human you really were. I realised I was beginning to feel much more than friendship towards you. My mind became stuck on the night you asked for my help in teaching you to kiss. The feel of your lips against mine…it was so hard to control myself. From that night on I decided to try and figure out your feelings, but I'm not as good with reading people as you are. I really had no idea how you saw me. Then last night at the pool, when I looked into your eyes, I saw the same worry, fright, and relief in your gaze as I knew must be in mine." You stopped speaking, and I think it was to allow me to fully absorb what it was you were saying._

_I drew in a sharp breath, my eyes frantically searching each corner of your face to see if you were lying about anything you had just said. You sat with a smile, knowing exactly what I was doing. You were so confident that you actually straightened your spine. I felt my smile growing with each sweep of my gaze over your face._

" _So you don't regret what we did?" I asked, my voice a near silent whisper._

_You chuckled, shaking your head, "No. I thought I had made that pretty clear. I think I would like to try a relationship with you, Jim…you know…boyfriends?"_

_I cringed at that word. I hate that word. You frowned at me so I hastened to explain, "Not boyfriends, please, I hate such pedestrian labels," I felt my upper lip draw back in spite as the word came from my mouth._

_You laughed again, nodding, "Alright. Alright, not boyfriends then. How about…partners?"_

_I perked up liking that word much better, "Partners," I repeated, almost fascinated by the word coming from my mouth in relation to you._

_Your smile was infectious; I could feel it forcing itself onto my own lips. We both leaned towards each other, a chaste brush of lips shared between us._

" _Sounds very, very good to me," you purred, your arms coming up to suddenly wrap around me to draw me into a more heated, much harder kiss that became a battle of tongue, teeth, and willpower._

_I hardly think I need to continue on to what happened from there. For quite some time following this day, we were happy…quite happy indeed. Sure we had some arguments, sometimes you left the flat for a walk to clear your head, but it was nothing that we couldn't get over. We enjoyed two blissful months together until The Woman came into our lives._

_I fear I probably left you with a bit of a cliffhanger there, but the story about her is much too long to include in this letter. You'll have to also forgive the over-the-top sentiment in this letter, but I couldn't seem to keep it out. This was one of the better days of my life, and I fear it uncorks my emotions._

_Rest now, John. There aren't too many more things I have to write to you about, and I know how much you need your rest. I only hope you're listening to my advice at the end of these letters. As always, I cannot wait until I see you again. I only hope putting a face to the words helps and doesn't hinder your healing process. Goodnight, John._

_Love Always,  
JM_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know what motivates me to write faster? Reviews! Please tell me what you lot think! Also, thanks so much for making this a much bigger hit than I thought it would originally be. You are all so gorgeous and amazing!


	8. When We Were Strongest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well kiddies, yet another long awaited chapter for you all! I could sit and make excuses for why this took so long again, but I won't. I'm trying to be as quick as possible, but life is complicated sometimes. You will be happy to hear that the next chapter is about a third written already. You'll all hate me so much for it, but I love it! Anyways, on with the story! Thanks to the amazing Grizziesmom this chapter is amazing. MeddlingAdler is a very talented and busy lady, and I'm impatient and posting this without her help, sorry love, though you'll be getting my next chapter soon!

_My dearest John,_

_It is actually with great reluctance that I write this particular letter. I have a lot of reservations on sharing this particular memory with you because of the slight chasm is caused between us for a short while. Honestly, when I first heard of your suspected amnesia, this is the first thing I thought of and was happy you'd forgotten. But I know that, in order to regain any part of what we had before the accident, I must reveal the most significant memories we've shared._

_As you recall, I brought up The Woman in my last letter. Well, more traditionally she goes by Irene Adler. She is a business woman of sorts and she contacted me to help her set up her website. She conducts her business online. All of her clients find her that way, if they're lucky enough to ever hear her name breathed, that is. I suppose I can't get too far into the letter without telling you that she is a dominatrix. Well, more specifically, she's a well-paid dominatrix who services very high-end clients. There are a number of things I had no knowledge of when I agreed to help her. Had I but known, I don't think I'd have taken the job, no matter the large sum of money she was offering me._

_With all that being said, she did provide me with one of the more interesting jobs I'd ever had. I was more than intrigued by the ideas she had for her website. We initially met at a small French bakery in SoHo. She was…she was something else. She held herself with such authority that people literally stumbled over themselves to get away from her. She seemed to look down her nose in utter disdain. Yet, the curl of her blood red lips called for you to come closer. I likened her to something like the Black Widow._

_It was quite odd, but from the first meeting she and I had, we seemed to intrigue each other. She was more interested in finding out my background than talking about what she wanted for her website. She also had the ability to read people much like myself, and it was eerie to hear her making observations about me. I'd never met anyone else who could do such a thing, well, aside from the horrible Sherlock Holmes that is. I left that first meeting with an odd taste in my mouth. I wasn't quite sure what to make of her, though I had a feeling she knew just what to make of me. With that knowledge, I didn't know how I felt about meeting with her again, but a job is a job and I'm nothing if not loyal to those who pay for my services._

_There is a whole book of information I could give you about The Woman, but I don't have time for that. And I'd rather not dive into it all again, so I'm going to skip ahead to the launch day._

_I'd been working exclusively with Irene for two months. Of course, in that amount of time, you did have the pleasure of meeting her. From the get go you did not like her. She was the base of many fights between us, which I am still man enough to admit were partially my fault. I was completely taken with her mind. You'd taken a spot in the back of my mind while I worked with her. You were not happy about this. You brought it up numerous times, and I apologise once more for my callous remarks and the way I ignored your feelings during those months._

_Back to the launch day._

_That day, Irene's website would be opened up to her public. You insisted on being there. I assumed it was your way to further stake claim to what was yours. I rather did enjoy your fierce jealousy and possessiveness. A man always likes to feel he is wanted. I know I could have been more reassuring to you during this period of time, but I was just so wrapped up in her, for which I really can never apologise enough._

_We arrived at The Woman's townhouse in the early evening. Kate, her assistant and lover let us in. While I was wrapped up with The Woman, you and Kate grew rather chummy. I was actually starting to get a taste of my own medicine, which I think is what you wanted. Back to the point…we were shown into the sitting room where The Woman had champagne and appetizers waiting for us. She took her seat in a plush chair at the head of the room. You and I took up spots on her settee right across from her fireplace. There was a safe above the mantel. I saw Irene's smirk when she caught me looking, though I quickly adverted my gaze._

_"Let's get on with it then boys. A girl's gotta work," she purred, leaning back in her chair and accepting a flute of champagne from Kate._

_You nodded, "Agreed, get it up and we'll be out of your hair Miss Adler."_

_You declined the champagne Kate offered you, giving her a sweet smile before she left us alone._

_"Nice choice of words doctor, though I doubt he'd get it up for me," she said as her lips curled, her eyes glimmering as she studied you. You glared at her._

_"I'll get the website up, you two play nice," I muttered and opened up the laptop on the table in front of me. There was an email open, but I barely paid it heed. I'd been working on Irene's personal laptop for quite some time; there are a few things I'd stumbled upon in that time. I'd seen enough to know that Irene truly is genius._

_I was just getting the browser open for Irene's site when there was a loud banging from the hall. I felt you tense up next to me. I looked up, hoping that Irene would shed some light on the noise, but she'd turned white as a sheet._

_"Is that a client?" I asked her, hesitating now, watching her shift subtly in her chair._

_She cast her gaze from the door to me, "No, I'm afraid we're in trouble boys."_

_You had just opened your mouth to ask her what she meant when the door to the sitting room was kicked in. We all watched as three suited men entered the room. The middle man was tall, slightly balding, once heavier, umbrella hanging from his arm, and what was left of his hair was red. He held himself aloof, as if it was quite below him to have to be there with us. I felt you tensing up even further. I knew you were preparing to throw yourself to the wolves to protect us if it came to that. I slowly slid my hand to your thigh, squeezing lightly to stay you._

_"Good evening Miss Adler, I assume you know why we're here. Let's just do this quickly. No one needs to get hurt," the umbrella man said, his voice sounding almost bored._

_I glanced over to Irene, her smile cool as her eyes appraised him, "Now, Mr. Holmes, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. I'm merely a business woman. I hardly warrant the attention of the British government."_

_I balked. The man was the older brother to Sherlock Holmes. My jaw clenched as I turned to face him. He didn't even bother to pay us any mind. He leaned against his umbrella. He gave a short nod, his men dispersing at his signal._

_"I will do this the hard way if I must, but either way, you will be stopped. My idiot brother can't continue with this petty feud between us. I know you've been in contact with him." The man, the elder Holmes, arched a brow at Irene._

_The Woman leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she regarded the man, "Oh, I don't think it's such a petty feud Mycroft. He's got good reason to want to ruin you. I have nothing to do with it."_

_The man, Mycroft, crossed his feet, the toes of his right shoe resting on the floor while his other foot remained flat, "Wrong, you've provided him fuel for his fire. You've gained intimate access to some of the most powerful people in Europe. You've taken leverage from each encounter to protect yourself. You're not as cool as you think, Miss Adler," his grin was snake-like as he leveled his gaze at her._

_Irene swallowed, her features remaining impassive, "As you said Mycroft, I only do it to protect myself. I have no need to include Sherlock in my plans. He's got his own evil plots brewing. I'd not worry about little old me; he's the one you should be confronting." She sat up then, leaning back in her chair adopting a more relaxed pose._

_Mycroft sighed, his head finally turning to regard us, "You've had access to everything Irene has that I need. Hand it over or we'll be forced to use any means necessary to take it."_

_I was stunned. I had no idea what he was referring to. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I glanced over at Irene but she kept her gaze locked on Mycroft. I saw her subtly sliding a mobile under her thigh. I looked back at Mycroft, "I really haven't a clue what you're talking about. I've only been helping her set up a website."_

_His look only grew more thoughtful._

" _You've been working from her laptop. She knows everything you might see on it would mean nothing to you, but I know how clever you are. You're a genius with technology and a genius to boot. You insult my own intelligence by pretending to not know what I am talking about. You've read her emails. I want to know what was in them. If you refuse…" he trailed there; one of his men had come back into the room. Mycroft nodded to the man. My eyes narrowed as he began to approach us. I shifted, a bit uneasy, but then he lashed out and grabbed you by the collar of your jumper._

_I jumped back, startled by the sudden movement. The man had pulled you from the settee and had you kneeling on the floor, a gun pointed to the back of your head. In that instant I saw red. I jumped to my feet, enraged that he would threaten your life._

_"I'm an IT guy, I really didn't see anything! What I have seen would make no sense to you anyways. Let him go, he has nothing to do with any of this!"_

_My fists were clenched tightly at my side. I knew I couldn't best these men, but I would do whatever I could to protect you._

_"Jim, just…give him something," you hissed as the barrel of the gun dug into your skull._

_Mycroft trained his cool gaze on me, "Tell me now, Mr. Moriarty what it is you've seen but presume to think would be useless to me. Refuse to tell me again, and he's dead. Those are your choices."_

_I gaped at him. I couldn't believe this! I whirled to face Irene. She kept up her cool façade, but her eyes were pleading with me to keep it to myself. In that moment, it really boiled down to which one of you I could live without. I knew without a doubt that I could not live without you. I turned away from Irene, and avoided looking at you. I breathed in deeply._

_"The email made no sense. All I got from it was a series of numbers and letters. I can write it down if you want, but that's all I know."_

_I didn't risk looking at Irene. I knew I'd let her down, which was confirmed when I heard her chair hit the floor._

_At that point, all hell broke loose. Irene managed to subdue Mycroft's men and get away. Mycroft went after her, which left you and I alone. I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew we needed to get out. I grabbed the material of your jumper near your right shoulder and hauled you to your feet._

_"We're leaving right now," I growled and nearly ran out the front door. We jogged a few blocks down the street until we came to a small alley. I pushed you into it, our breaths coming in gasps as we tried to settle our heartbeats._

_"What the fuck was that?" you uttered, your breath coming in small pants as you leaned against the alley wall._

_I shook my head. I had no idea. I walked up to you, placing my hand against your cheek. I needed to reassure myself that you were truly okay. I sighed, bowing my head forward to press our foreheads together, "I don't know what it was, but I think I've lost her business."_

_You chuckled lightly, tipping your head up to press a chaste kiss to my lips. I responded in kind before taking a step back. I straightened my jacket and drew in another deep breath. I looked around the alley and motioned you to follow me. I hailed us a cab home._

_The following morning's paper boasted a headline of a high-end dominatrix's death. I'd lie if I said I wasn't saddened by the news, but I also saw it coming. She'd aligned herself with the wrong sort of person. Everyone that comes into contact with Sherlock Holmes dies. He cares not for them, and tosses them aside as per his fancy. I fear I'd known from the first seeing of Mycroft Holmes in Irene's sitting room that her fate was sealed. I think she knew it too. On the following page was a small blurb about a government ploy against terrorists being leaked to a terrorist cell due to confidential information being passed into the wrong hands._

_I wish I could say that this incident was the last we would hear from the Holmes brothers, but I'd be lying. They popped up a few more times before the young one decided to take his own life. I am a bit glad that I don't need to go into too much detail for them, but I am looking forward to my next few letters. I finally get to share with you the happiest days of my life, a life that we decided to share together from now until eternity._

_Rest again John, I'm assuming you're rather crap at resting, but I hope that you're doing it for me. I really can't wait to see your gorgeous, blue eyes._

_Love Always,  
JM_


	9. And Together We Pledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! I hope you like this chapter, and not hate me too much! I do promise that the next chapter is the last letter, and then the chapter to follow the next has a small appearance of Sherlock. I will frustrate you all so much before this story ends, but I do promise a happy ending! I want to thank my betas MeddlingAdler and Grizziesmom. They are so fantastic, and without them my story would not be as amazing as it is! Read on and let me know what you think! I do love to hear from you all!

_My Dearest John,_

_I've been looking forward to writing this letter the most out of any that I have written so far. I do hope that by this point that this letter won't come as too much of a shock. From the very beginning you knew this letter would arrive. The big event I'm referring to is the day of our wedding. Of course I will include the day you proposed to me in this letter, but I wanted you to know right up front what to be expecting within. This might be the hardest letter for you to read given that you remember little to nothing of our life together, but I hope that everything I've written up to this point has prepared you, as well as sparked something…anything so that when I get to see you in only a few days' time, you won't be too distraught._

_Though this has been the one letter I've been looking forward to the most, it is also the one letter I've struggled to start properly. I suppose it would only be prudent to begin with the night you proposed to me. Everything that has been explained in the last few letters has been crucial up to this point. I don't even know how you're feeling about me, or us at this point, but I only hope that with what follows in this letter, I don't completely scare you away._

_The night you proposed to me, honestly, started out as any ordinary night. I was sitting at my desk with my laptop, working on a security programme for an army base in Baskerville when you arrived home from the clinic. It was half past six, I hadn't prepared dinner. Nor was I going to because I was completely wrapped up with my latest job. I did look up, however, when you approached from behind me._

_"Evening love," you greeted, bending to press a kiss against my temple._

_I made a noncommittal noise in response, too wrapped up in my codes to really say or do much. I heard you moving about behind me, shrugging out of your jacket. I narrowed my gaze so that I could concentrate better on my work. I had a rather tough deadline to keep, and I didn't need you to distract me away from it, so I tried hard to ignore the noises you had taken to making. I was just settling into my working mode when I felt your hand cup the back of my neck. I jumped, startled from my reprieve. I snapped my head around to glare at you._

_"I am working John. You know this job is important. I can't be bothered until I've reached a fair quitting point for the night. You've even harped at me to keep my attention on this job since it's for your precious army," I turned back to my screen, my words a mere muttered mess._

_You weren't swayed in the least. A shiver raced down my spine as your thumb began to make small circles against the skin on the back of my neck. I let out a frustrated sigh._

_"I know. I know. Usually I wouldn't dream of bothering you while you're working because I know it comes first, but I made reservations for us tonight, for dinner. I was hoping I wouldn't have to cancel them…" the word, again, was left hanging. There were more than a few times your reservations had to be cancelled due to my work._

_Sighing again, I finally turned around to look at you, frowning slightly, wondering if I'd missed some sort of important date. It wasn't our anniversary, or one of our birthdays…there wasn't anything special about the night that would warrant a fancy dinner. I arched my back, stretching the muscles._

" _Cancel again. I really do need to get this finished within the next week. It's not a simple job John; I need to concentrate all my focus and energy on it. I'm sorry to ask you to cancel yet again, but there's just no way I can tear myself away right now."_

_Oh God, the crestfallen look on your face when I suggested you cancel dinner hurt me. I frowned. The flash of pain in your gaze really was upsetting me. You'd never reacted this way before when we had to cancel. I frowned, lifting a hand to rub down my face, a breath escaping through my lips. I opened my mouth to cede in your favour, but you'd already turned away from me._

_"Uhm, okay. It's not a big deal I suppose. I'll call the place and cancel. I'll find something to make, no problem. I'm sorry…I knew you were busy…it's…it's not a big deal."_

_Your voice was so quiet; I hardly heard your words. You never ask much of me; never demand things from me; never try and make me be who I'm not. You respect me, my work, and the levels of concentration my work requires. You sacrifice a lot just to appease me, and I can honestly say, I haven't been good at that ever since the beginning of our relationship. I sighed again, pushing myself to my feet. I turned back to my laptop to be sure I saved my work before hurrying after you. I had a lot of ground to make up for. The worst thing I could ever imagine is losing you, which I think might have happened if I hadn't made a sacrifice of my own for you._

_"John, wait, don't cancel," I called, catching up to you before you made it into the kitchen._

_You whirled around to face me, a bewildered expression on your face. I smiled warmly, approaching you. I wrapped my arms around your waist and ducked my head slightly to press a kiss against your forehead._

" _You've gone through a lot of trouble to create date nights for me, and they rarely happen thanks to the work. I think I can quit early tonight and just work a bit longer tomorrow. I don't want to miss another date night," I murmured, stepping back a little, but keeping my arms around you. God, it always felt so good to just hold you against me._

_The smile that suddenly lit your face was so worth it, and I couldn't help but break out into a grin of my own. You pushed up to press a firm kiss against my lips before spinning away and heading towards the bedroom._

_"You'll need to dress up Mr. Moriarty. We're going to a rather fancy restaurant," you called over your shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom. I grinned, following behind you._

_Later, we emerged from the bedroom showered and dressed to the nines. It was a challenge for me to leave the flat with you when all I really wanted to do was throw you down onto the bed and ravish you. However, for some reason or another the dinner was important to you, so I would wait until we came home. I called down to have my driver ready for us, but found you'd really taken care of everything. I looped my arm with yours, and was not going to let go until we'd take our seats at the restaurant._

_We arrived at half seven when the driver pulled up outside The Ledbury. I grinned over at you. I'd heard a lot about this restaurant, and I was surprised you managed to reserve a table for us. Once outside the car, I wound my arm around your waist as we walked through the door. You told the host our name and were shown to a table a bit off from the rest of the patrons dinning in the restaurant._

_I honestly have no idea how I got so lucky to have you in my life. The table was intimately set for two. A vase full of plump, red roses sat in the middle adorned on each side by two, white, long stemmed candles, a velvety red table cloth, and a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne chilling. I was a bit dazed, looking at the scene that was set before me. I looked up at you, your face radiant in the glow of the candlelight. I couldn't help the grin that spread over my face._

_"John…how…why?" I couldn't form any longer sentences. I lowered myself into a chair pulled out by the server. You followed suit soon after. I had eyes only for you, truly stunned. My heart raced as I mechanically unfolded the white cloth napkin into my lap._

_"Just enjoy the dinner Jim, that's really all I'm asking. We haven't had a nice night out in ages. I figured it was long overdue," you stated, your grin was easy and comfortable._

_I truly felt anything but comfortable. I mean, I really had no idea what to expect, but my heart refused to calm down its erratic tattoo against my ribs. You looked so calm across the table. I was envious for a moment before I inhaled deeply, attempting to calm myself. A slow smile curled my lips. I let myself relax into the chair, accepting the flute of champagne you poured for me. You leaned back in your chair to ask the waiter for something, or so I presumed because you whispered to him and then he turned away towards the kitchen. I raised a brow at you. You simply grinned._

_"Just relax Jim. I promise you've nothing to worry over. Just sit and enjoy a nice dinner with me," you cocked your head as you smoothed your hands along your thighs._

_I sighed, nodding, "I think I can do that, but only because it's you," I teased, lifting the flute of champagne to my lips, letting the sweet, bubbly liquid slide down my throat._

_The evening passed in a relaxed, romantic sort of fashion. We caught up with each other. We talked about work, family, news; anything really. It was just so nice to talk to you about mundane things. I hadn't realised until then that I had been missing you. I was so wrapped up in my latest project that I'd completely blocked you out. I also realised just how selfish of me that was. I know I am so lucky to have you because you understand my need for work to come first. You never push me, or demand attention. You simply are always just there when I need you, and I love you all the more for knowing the infinite amount of patience you have in order to deal with me. I know I am not easy to get along with._

_The dinner went well. As we began to wind down, I was feeling utterly relaxed. I completely forgot about the security system I'd been working on for the past month. I only needed you. I licked the last traces of chocolate from my spoon, letting it fall back onto the plate that once housed my dessert. I was perfectly content and very ready to get you home. I leveled my gaze at you, hoping you'd get my message._

_You grinned slyly in response. You edged your seat back, rising from your chair. I moved as well to follow your lead. You held up your hand to stay me. I cocked my head in confusion._

" _Just hold on a second Jim, I dropped something. Stay there so I can find it," you muttered, heading around the table and kneeling near my chair. You were bent down, hands brushing along the floor._

_I hadn't a clue what you were looking for, but I saw the moment you found it. A smile took over your face and your eyes brightened considerably. I moved to rise, but you placed a hand on my knee to stay me once more._

" _What now, John?" I asked my voice a bit edgy. I wanted to get home._

_You remained kneeling, but as I looked you over, I spotted the black, velvety box now in your hand. Everything around us ceased to exist. Suddenly it became impossible to swallow. My hands began to tremble minutely. Surely, I was imagining this. I know what it looked like, but I could hardly think that you…that you'd be asking me…I wiped my hands along my thighs in hopes of calming myself._

" _John?" I breathed, eyes wide._

_You smiled warmly in response, opening the lid of the box being slowly as you gazed up at me, "Jim," you responded, your voice unwavering._

_I could only stare at the twin silver bands glittering in the light of the restaurant._

" _God, this must seem so damn cheesy! But then again, I am John Watson and cheesy is, apparently, what I do best," you said with a grin as you lifted the box towards me._

" _I think I can only really ask this once, so, here goes."_

_You cleared your throat, a very quick flash of apprehension shone in your blue eyes before you seemed to steel yourself._

" _James Moriarty, will you do me the honour of marrying me so that we can spend the rest of our lives together?"_

_I couldn't talk for a few long seconds. I could, embarrassingly enough feel my mouth agape, but no words were coming. I was screaming yes in my head so loud I didn't understand how you couldn't hear me. I suddenly saw the pained look of misery enter your gaze. I gasped, reaching out to grab you, pulling you up between my legs so that I could claim your lips. It was a heated rush of tongues and teeth. I wrapped my arms tightly around you, nuzzling into your neck._

" _Yes John, a thousand times yes," I breathed into your ear. I slowly eased back so that I could look into your eyes._

_I was not prepared for the emotion I saw in them. I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, my hand rising to cup your cheek, but you intercepted it. You cradled it between two of your hands, slipping one of the cool silver bands around the appropriate finger. I watched you, completely in awe of the entire thing. I cannot believe I nearly gave this up just for work. I slowly lifted my left hand to study the band, the ring that would signify our future together._

" _Wow. I always thought it was an over-statement when people said that they felt so happy and complete in this moment. It's utterly true. I have never felt this happy before in my life Jim," you said so softly. I leaned in to steal a chaste kiss from your lips._

_We both jumped when a sudden loud applause broke out in the restaurant. I grinned like a mad man, standing and helping you to your own feet. I wound and arm around your waist, pulling you close so that our foreheads were pressed together. The smile on my lips refused to die, and my lips refused to be parted from yours for more than was necessary to breathe or speak. I was well aware of the people surrounding us, but I only had eyes for you._

" _You're not the only one feeling so elated John. I never imagined I would ever find someone to love in my entire life. I was used to being the loner, the weird kid in class, or the kid constantly being picked on. I was content to just be alone for the rest of my days, but then I met you. You turned everything upside down, and I cannot imagine a day in my future without you John Hamish Watson. You've made me so happy."_

_I pulled you close, just relishing in the feel of your body tucked up against mine. I felt you chuckle lightly, your own arms coming around to hold me just as tightly. I felt you turn your head, your lips right against my ear as you spoke, only for me to hear._

" _I think it's time to go home and celebrate, Jim."_

_I nodded in agreement. We linked hands, exiting the restaurant. Patrons and staff alike all stepped forward to give us well wishes and clap us on the back. It was odd to be on the receiving end of such positive attention. I was absolutely glowing in the attention, and I was even happier to show everyone that you were mine, and would be mine for the foreseeable future._

_That night we went home and celebrated using our bodies. It's odd how, only using your lips, you can show how much you love someone. We explored every single inch of each other's' bodies a few times over. It was the most emotional love making we'd ever had. We didn't settle down for sleep until the first rays of dawn were peeking over the tall buildings of the city. I had my hand linked in yours as I lay draped over your chest. I tilted our linked hands, loving the glinting of light from our rings._

" _I do love you John," I breathed, turning my head to press a kiss against your chest._

" _And I you, Jim. I can't wait to marry you," you murmured, bending your head to brush a kiss into my hair._

_I couldn't wait either John. I couldn't wait to make you mine in every way that mattered. It was only a matter of time now before we would be joined in eternal bliss. It was the happiest day of my life, but something that I must write about in a separate letter. I feel that this letter may come as a sort of shock to you, but it is nearing the end of things I must write down for you. By my estimate there is one more letter left. I am just looking forward to seeing your bright blue eyes once more, love._

_Again, get some rest. I will be joining you again soon enough. I love you John. Never forget that._

_Love Always,  
JM_


	10. This Is Our Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long, but I got laid up with Bronchitis, and then I truly thought I was going to die. It was horrible. I am much better now so I will update a lot quicker! There is also smut in this chapter and it is also rather a long chapter. This is also the last letter. More notes to follow at the end of this chapter! Also, you should all be happy to hear, I have the next three chapters written, they just need to be betaed! Please excuse any mistakes, I went through this as carefully as possible since my two gorgeous betas are very busy ladies, so any mistakes within are all my own!

_My Dearest John,_

_This is the letter I have been working towards. I know it's been a bit of a journey, and I know you didn't heed all of my requests that you rest after each letter, but I find I don't much care about that now. Following is what I have proudly labeled the happiest day of my life; our wedding day._

_Now I know this letter may still come as a shock to you John, but I want you to know, that when we see each other again, I do not expect you to be so accepting of me. I have readied myself for nearly any scenario when I come to see you again. I do not expect us to be how we were in these letters, so I want you to know that there is no pressure at all. Please remember all of this John, because you are the most important part of my life, and I am prepared to do whatever it is I have to in order to have you back._

_We spent seven months engaged. I was surprised at how involved I wanted to be in planning the wedding. You were a pushover when it came to the wedding, citing that you just wanted to marry me while the rest was just an added bonus. I took many liberties in creating a beautiful ceremony, nothing too flowery or feminine, but something that would be memorable to the both of us. Now, I say wedding, but since same sex marriage hasn't been legalised in London yet, what we partook in was a civil union. No matter the name John, what we were participating in that day would mean no less to me, and I'm confident you felt the same way._

_June seventh was the day we chose to bond ourselves together._

_We had agreed on a small, intimate wedding held in a small country church, the church in the village where your grandfather's farm is located. You were once close to your grandfather, helping him on his farm to escape your father when he was alive. You fell in love with the countryside. I wanted you to feel close to your grandfather, so I booked the church in his village._

_The morning of our wedding my mother insisted we stick to traditions, even though we were both males. You spent the night at the old farmhouse with your sister and a few friends. My mother, brother, and a few family friends stayed with me at the Inn. It was near torture not being with you the night before we would be wed. I endured it the best I could, even with my brother's awful stag party. I couldn't wait until the morning to be rid of all these imbeciles and to just have you. I could only hope that you were faring better than myself with your own situation, though knowing Harry, I'm sure she put you through the ringer. I never learned what you lot got up to before our wedding night; you refused to talk about it, though you reassured me nothing too horrible happened._

_I trusted you, so I never pushed the subject._

_The next morning came slowly. I woke well before the sun had risen, nerves making me feel jittery. I could only imagine you must be feeling the same way. Our wedding day is a day I had resigned myself to never expect in my life. I never thought I would ever find someone I would want to spend my life with. I had paced my room while the sun rose, nearly exhausting myself as I churned through all the thoughts, doubts, second guesses, and memories of the two of us; our past, present, and future. I did, for only a second mind you, think of running away._

_I was hit with the sudden thought of my future consisting of my life with you. I started to get a bit scared. I didn't know if I could accept sharing the rest of my life with someone, but then I remembered that someone was you. I then thought of what my life would be like without you, and all I could feel was a sharp pain through my chest. That's what convinced me I could go through with this. I love you John, and I was not going to do something so pedestrian as run away from my wedding when I was going to link myself to the only person I love for the rest of my life._

_With a smile on my face, I went into the bathroom, humming a Vivaldi tune under my breath. I started to put myself together for the wedding that would be taking place in a matter of hours. I had been in the bathroom near an hour when I heard someone knocking on my door. I figured it was my mother collecting me for breakfast, so I threw a towel around my waist to open the door._

_"Give me a minute mum, I'll be dressed soon," I said as I pulled the door open, only to be gob smacked because you were standing on the other side, looking a bit ruffled by sleep._

_"Morning…almost husband," you greeted in a hoarse whisper, stepping into the room and kissing the corner of my mouth._

_I grinned, shutting the door behind you. I turned to follow you into my room only to watch you immediately lie down on the bed. You made a content humming noise as you burrowed your head into my pillow._

_"I slept like shit without you," you stated, your impossibly bright blue eyes cracking to look at me, a lazy smile curling your lips._

_I grinned at you, moving to the vacant side of the bed to crawl in next to you. I slipped my hand under your white sleep shirt, gently caressing the planes of your slightly rounded stomach. I nuzzled into your neck._

_"Hmmm, it's bad luck for us to see one another on our wedding day…before the wedding," I teased, placing an open mouthed kiss along the tight chords of your neck, my arm tightening its hold around you._

_"We're not a bride and groom you berk. That rule doesn't apply to us. I wanted to make sure you were still here," you turned your head to look at me, the light from the window turning the blond locks atop your head a shimmering gold._

_"Nonsense John, I'd never run from this day with you. You're about to be mine, only mine. I would never pass up a chance to show that off," I murmured, ducking my head to place a slow, closed mouth kiss to your lips._

_"Mmm yes, anything to further demonstrate your possessive personality is right up your alley. I should have known," you said, yawning as you brushed your nose along mine, your lips brushing over mine too._

_"Thought you knew me better Johnny boy," I teased, using teeth this time when I kissed you, gently nibbling your lower lip, my favourite way to gain entrance._

_You giggled, letting my tongue seek out yours in a play of dominance for a few heated minutes before you pulled back, your hands holding either side of my face as you gazed into my eyes._

_"I know you better than I think you know yourself," you purred, ducking in to claim my lips in a kiss._

_I groaned, rolling over so that I was on top of you, my arms bracing me on either side of your head. I pressed my lips harder to yours, licking my tongue through your mouth, groaning as you sucked on my tongue. I felt your blunt nails against my skin, a sweet nip of pain as you scratched along my back. I pulled my head back just slightly, the very edges of our lips still against each other._

" _I believe you are ri—"_

" _Jim! Oh Jim darling," oh god…I forgot my mother was coming to my room that morning. I could have slapped you for the grin on your face as my cheeks turned to burning pools of red._

" _Jim darling, how will you greet your mother now?" you snarked, jutting your hips up to remind me of your, as always, impressive hard on._

_I growled low in my throat, "I will kill you," before quickly jumping from the bed, taking the sheet with me to intercept my mother at the door to keep her from seeing you in my room._

_I glared once more as I heard your giggle before pulling the door open to greet my mother, who immediately smothered me in a hug._

" _There you are, and you're starkers! I thought you'd be dressed by now," she scolded, pushing past me to have a look around my room, no doubt searching for you._

" _Mum, please, wait in the hall while I finish dressing for breakfast. Then we can come back here and you can fuss all you like," I said, attempting to shoo her away from venturing further into my room._

" _I gave birth to you son; you haven't got anything I haven't seen already. I used to clean all your bits for you anyways. Drop the sheet and get some clothes on," she demanded, her tone brokered no arguments, but the smile ever-present on her face spoke of her true feelings._

_I also couldn't help but flush at her remark, pulling the sheet even tighter to myself, "Mum!" I scolded rather lamely, but turned on my heel and went to the bathroom. I dropped the sheet and proceeded to pull on a pair of tracksuit trousers with a white tee shirt._

" _God Jim, your mum will be the death of me."_

_I jumped, knocking my comb from the counter when I heard you speak from behind the shower curtain._

" _Jesus Christ John!" I gasped, grabbing the curtain and ripping it back so I could glare at you._

_You curled your arms around your stomach, doubling over to laugh as quietly as you could. I pulled the curtain shut once more, leaving you alone as I exited the bathroom. You really can be such a child sometimes John…but it just endears me that much more to you._

_By the time I got back to my room you were gone. I did find a quickly scribbled note from you though, which just made me smile. I folded it and put it in the breast pocket of the jacket for my tux. I looked at the clock on the table next to the bed, which told me I had about an hour to get ready._

_It is quite spectacular how quick time can run out when you're getting ready for the biggest day of your life. I felt like it had been mere minutes since I'd last seen you when my mother and brothers came in to hurry me from my room. They had a car waiting at the kerb to the Inn. They shoved me into it, my mother accompanying me as it pulled away towards the small church._

_There is a lot of drivel I could add at this point in the letter, but it's all unimportant. Everything I could say here still leads to the inevitable moment where we stand before the minister and pledge our lives to one another. The moment we exchanged vows was the happiest I had ever felt. You were mine, and I yours. You looked devastatingly handsome in your Army dress outfit; while you assured me I looked utterly smashing in my pristine, white tuxedo. The rest of the night passed in a blur of alcohol, relatives, dancing, shouting, some fighting, and a whole mess of decorations scattered all over the hall we had rented. All in all, it was a typical wedding, but our wedding night only made it all the more better._

_The most important part of the night is what followed when we were finally permitted to share a room at the Inn. We stumbled over each other up the stairs, giggling and interrupting the giggling with soft, sweet kisses. We finally made it to our door. We each propped ourselves against the doorjamb as I fumbled with the keys._

" _Oh, I married a man who can't even open a door for his husband," you snarked, blue eyes glimmering in the low, hallway light._

_I gave you a very pointed look, or rather I think I did, I'm not entirely sure as the champagne I consumed during the whole affair was wreaking havoc on my entire nervous system. "Well, you were the one…smart enough to marry me…husband," I snapped playfully._

_A low growl emitted from your throat as you pushed off the wall, stumbling into me, your hands coming to twine into the soft hairs at the back of my neck. Your breath smelled of champagne and sweet cake. I grinned, leaning forward to nip your bottom lip, "And look, I'm smart enough to get this bloody door…open," I muttered, my voice husky now, my brain speeding ahead to the activities we were about to embark on as a married couple._

" _Well look at that, I did make the right choice after all," you purred, spinning a little on the balls of your feet and dragging me across the threshold._

_You slammed my back against the door, your hands branding to my hips, pinning me. You moved quickly, lips descending onto mine, pressing hard, tongue flicking out to seek entrance into my mouth. I opened to you, my own tongue pressing against yours, swirling and tasting, a low moan sounding between us._

" _Husband of mine, we should move this to the bed," your voice was a few octaves lower and connected right to my cock._

_I made some sort of inhuman sounds, my hips jutting forward, yours meeting mine in the small space between us, "Bed, yes," I agreed readily, winding my arms around your waist, starting to walk us towards the bed._

_You nuzzled into my neck, your teeth gently nipping, pulling sounds out of my lips. At one point, I felt you lick a stripe up to behind my ear where your teeth scraped along the sensitive skin there. I shivered, my fingers stuttering in their hold against your suit jacket. I growled then, realising all the layers that lie between me and feeling just you. I looked up, seeing the bed right behind you so I pushed you roughly down onto the duvet._

" _God you look divine," I growled, shrugging out of my jacket. I folded it and set it on the chair next to the table across from the bed. I looked up, you were supporting yourself on your elbows, the grin on your face; positively devilish. Your tongue poked out, wetting your lips._

" _I'm waiting for you…Mr. Moriarty-Watson," you purred, scooting back some to make room for me._

_The corners of my mouth curled. I started to slowly unbutton my shirt, walking towards you. I came to stand between your legs, my shirt easily falling from my shoulders to pool on the floor. I saw the way you eyed me before settling your gaze on my crotch. Really quite obvious John, but it hurried me along anyways. I unbuttoned my slacks, shimming them down my hips, letting them fall the rest of the way down my legs before stepping out. I could already feel my cock aching for you._

" _Jim, you're really playing with fire…don't play coy anymore love," you growled, a fierce look flashing in your deep blue eyes._

_I chuckled, pulling my pants down before crawling over you. I braced myself above your prone body, grinning hungrily down at you. Your hands came up to gently stroke along my sides, causing a shiver to prickle my skin._

" _I'll play with you for as long as I like love, and right now you are wearing far, far too many clothes," I growled, lowering my head to nip at your lips, urging them to plump up before tilting my head and covering your mouth with mine._

_I swallowed a moan as your tongue came into my mouth, caressing my palate, sliding over my teeth, flicking to drink me in. I hallowed my cheeks, sucking gently on your wet muscle before pulling my head back. I slid one hand up over your chest, pulling your dress shirt from your trousers so that I could streak my palm under to feel your skin. I loved the tight, smooth feel of you, sometimes interrupted by course curls._

" _You'd best do something about these clothes then Mr. Watson-Moriarty," you growled, moving your arms to rest below your head, smugly looking up at me._

_I nearly snarled at you before catching myself at the last second so as not to ruin your dress shirt. I hurriedly undid the buttons. I pushed it down your shoulders, glaring at you before you pushed up and threw the shirt to the floor. I took advantage of your slightly raised position to violently pull your undershirt over your head. I pushed you back down, shimming along your naked torso, lowering my head to gently caress your collarbone with my breath._

_You shifted below me, your breath beginning to stutter from your lips. I placed my lips against the flesh covering the spot where your neck gently slopped into your shoulder. You shivered, I grinned, opening my lips very slowly to taste your skin. I flicked the tip of my tongue into the little groove. I felt you arch your back, your chest coming into contact with my own. I pressed down against you, my lips dragging along your shoulder, nipping, licking, sucking, and kissing down towards your clavicle._

_It surprised me, the first time we'd slept together, how receptive you were and how sensitive your body was to my ministrations. I could play you liked a well-tuned instrument. It made my blood sing. I closed my lips around your left nipple, laving my tongue against it to coax it into a pert peak within my mouth. I gently closed my teeth around it, pinching it slightly. You stuttered out a gasp above me, your back leaving the bed to press closer._

" _Jesus Christ Jim," you groaned, fingers digging into my scalp as you fought to keep control over your body._

_I pulled my teeth over your nipple, grinning up at you. I moved up, capturing your lips into a heated kiss while one hand skimmed down your chest. Your muscles were deliciously tight, straining against your skin, begging to be touched. I rubbed your erection through the cloth of your trousers, a hiss emitting from your lips as your zipper dug into your cock. I leaned up then, straddling your waist, my cock jutting up, throbbing against my slim stomach. I reached down, stroking myself slowly._

" _God you're gorgeous, and all mine," I murmured, circling my thumb over the head of my cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum._

" _I want my trousers off now, or I'll revert back to my te-"_

_I didn't let you finish. I slipped off your body, popped the button on your trousers, then slowly…sinfully slow, I pulled your zip down. I looked up when you groaned your head flopping back to expose the thick, chorded length of your neck. My mouth watered._

" _John," I breathed, a sudden wall of sentiment hitting me. I removed your trousers and pants before climbing back up your body, kissing a trail to your neck. I needed my lips and teeth on you. My tongue flicked out, your taste something I would never get enough of, not for as long as we would live._

_The pale scar on your left shoulder, a starburst of white in a sea of tan, beckoned me. I hovered above it, licking my lips. You were so sensitive there. I lifted my gaze to your eyes, a feral look in them as I sunk my head down, tongue dipping right into the middle of the scar. The new skin there was smooth, its story was still being written. I groaned, my lips fitting over as much of the scar as they could. I shivered at the feel of your blunt nails scrapping against my scalp as you held me in place._

" _J-Jim, God, please," you keened, hips jutting up, your cock slapping almost wetly against my hip._

_I grinned against your skin before lowering my lips to your collarbone. I nipped across the length of the protruding bone, my tongue flicking into the small indent between both bones. I sucked a mark above your heart before continuing my trek down your body. I felt your muscles quiver beneath your skin whenever I grazed my fingers, lips, or tongue over you. I looked up, my chin at your navel, to see your still tanned skin glistening with beads of sweat. I turned my head down to nip at your skin, grinning as you hissed, your fingers curling into the sheets. I felt your cock throb against my chest._

" _Christ, I didn't marry you to be tortured," you growled, bending your legs to further open yourself to me._

_Finally taking the hint, I moved down, on my knees now between your stretched legs. When I glanced up at you, all I could see was your gaze…love and trust…well and a bit of lust, but those first two are the most important. No one, aside from my family, had ever looked at me with such trust and love. It nearly took my breath away. I smiled, leaning up to steal a soft, sweet kiss from your reddened, swollen lips. I groaned before pulling off and going back to where I was._

" _No more torture my love, I promise," I whispered, bending now to let my moist breath caress your engorged member._

_A bead of pre-cum had collected in the tip of your cock. I licked my lips, suddenly hungry for all of you. I flicked my tongue out, rolling the tip to collect the salty liquid. I heard you groan, the muscles of your stomach bunching with your restraint to keep your hips from bucking. I grinned at the sight before parting my lips, easing the head of your penis into my waiting mouth. Instantaneously my tongue wrapped around the mushroom shaped tip. I hallowed my cheeks, sucking you in, my tongue curled around your shaft. I traced the tip of my tongue along the vein on the back of your penis, flattening my muscle against your organ. I smoothed one hand up your calf, then through the soft hairs of your thigh. I scraped my nails along the inner part of your thigh before finally taking your balls into my palm._

_You jumped just slightly when I pressed my thumb between them, rolling them slightly, their heat leaking into my palm. I swallowed all of you down then, your head hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed around you, squeezing your shaft. You whimpered; your hips stuttering as they lifted from the bed. I grinned, moaning around your cock, making you feel even more pleasure. It didn't take long for your hands to find my head once again, your fingers curling and pulling at my short strands._

_I pulled my lips back up your shaft, teeth very gently scrapping along until just your head resided in my mouth. I lifted my free hand to stroke along your shaft while I sucked on your tip, drawing even more pre-cum down my throat. I flattened my tongue over the hole in your slit, my lips clamping down as I sucked you fiercely._

_"Fuck! Jim! If you don't stop…I-I'm going to…f-fuck…I'm going to c-cum," I looked up to see the almost pained expression on your face as you fought to keep from cumming._

_I pulled off of you with a pop, spittle and pre-cum making your cock and my lips shimmer in the muted light of our room. "I want you inside of me John," I sighed, crawling up to position myself over your rigid cock._

_I held it at the base, guiding it towards my puckered hole. I looked up when you slapped against my thigh._

_"Wha-? Jim…aren't…don't you have to prepare?" you stuttered out, a look of worry flashing in your cerulean eyes._

_I smirked, "Not tonight…I've been waiting too long for this night John, I just want you and the burn of you as you enter me," I breathed, lowering my arse so that just the top of your head rested against my opening._

_"Oh Jesus fuck Jim," you groaned, your head digging down into the pillow as your hands came to clasp down hard on my hips._

_God I love when you're vocal. I didn't need any more initiative so I sank myself down, slowly, onto your cock. Fuck did it burn as I took you in dry, well with my saliva paving the way. It felt so fucking amazing. That slight sting caused my own cock to jump with pleasure. There was already a mess of pre-cum stuck to the course hairs that lead down my pelvis, but I didn't care about that, all I wanted was to fuck you. I missed you last night, and I couldn't help the neediness I felt as I began to ride you. I lost myself in the obscene sound of our flesh slapping together as I slammed down on you, and you surged up to meet me. I leaned forward, my hands curling, biting into the flesh above your pecs, my mouth hanging open as moan after moan was ripped from me._

_"Oh fuck J-John," I groaned, angling myself just so, the head of your cock connecting with my prostate with each thrust into my hole. You felt to so amazing, so it's really no wonder that it didn't take either of us long to fall over the edge._

_I didn't even have to touch myself, just the sheer pleasure of having you inside of me, the events of the day, and just knowing you and I were married had me spilling my seed over your stomach and chest. I fell forward, my hands catching me on either side of your head. I soon felt your own cock throb inside of me, your sticky liquid coating the insides of my walls. I couldn't hold myself up any longer. I collapsed against you, my own cum smearing over my chest as well. Your arms came up to wrap around me._

_"Oh God, Jim…" you moaned, turning your head to bury your nose into the crook of my neck. I smiled faintly at the feel of your lips brushing against my skin._

_"That was fuck…fantastic," I grunted, turning so that I could brush a kiss to your forehead, my body beginning to feel boneless._

_You chuckled beneath me, the movement causing your cock to slip out of me. I shivered at the sensation, sighing as my eyes began to flutter. Everything from the day was catching up to me, making me feel heavy. It took a lot of willpower to peel myself away from you to stagger into the bathroom and grab a wet flannel. I cleaned myself up before coming back out to do the same to you. After we were both cleaned I wrapped myself around you, nuzzling into the soft hairs over your temple. I pressed another kiss there as you turned towards me. You tangled our legs together, your lips finding my forehead to press a kiss there before letting out a soft breath._

_"That was amazing John," I murmured, my eyelids beginning to droop._

_"It's always amazing you twat, but this was…it was better," you agreed softly._

_I could hear the tiredness seeping into your own voice, so before we both fell asleep I nestled more comfortably into you and whispered very softly, "I love you John."_

_I felt your smile as you nuzzled into me, "And I love you Jim," your words were a mere breath, but they washed over me all the same._

_From that night forward, I knew, as long as we had each other and our love, nothing could come between us. This accident, the memory loss you're currently suffering, those only serve to make us stronger. This letter serves to prove to you just how much we belong together and how much I need you. When you've finished this letter, and have gotten enough rest, then I will come and see you._

_I love you John, and I am beyond excited to see you again. Get some rest. I will be seeing you very soon._

_Love Always,  
JM_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me know what you think? Also, I know there are only ten letters, but actually there are about twenty five. I might make this a series and post up random letters not included in this fic, but only if you guys are interested in that? Please let me know any thoughts or even suggestions for additional letters in a comment! Love you all so much!


	11. We All Know The Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How excited are you guys for this chapter? Probably not as excited as me to write it! I’m actually excited because writing those letters was so hard! I hope you guys enjoy! Please let me know! Also, bonus chapter today for you guys being so amazing and holding on even when I take five hundred years to update! Not betaed because I wanted to get this up for you guys tonight! The next two chapters will be betaed though! Grizziesmom and MeddlingAdler are so amazing! You can find them on ff.net!

John put the last letter back into the shoebox. It had taken him well over four days to get through all the letters. He had to stop a lot because all the words made his head ache, but mostly…they made him feel oddly empty, like he was missing a huge part of his life, the part that seemed to account for most of his happiness. Each time he'd read about something he and…and Jim had done together, he'd close his eyes and try to picture it, try to bring it forth from whatever dark recesses of his mind it was hidden away in. For the life of him, whenever reading the things Jim wrote of, he felt nothing more than a lonely ache.

All John knew was his attraction to women. There was nothing in his head or heart that pulled him towards the male part of his species. Even when he'd think of men, after finding out he'd married one, nothing sparked in him. His thoughts of women, all the ones he'd been with while in school and the army caused something to stir within him, nothing, save for an encounter of experimentation with a uni mate and some army mates, made him account for the fact he'd married a man, not a woman. John could only hope that this Jim he was married to was an understanding soul, and wouldn't push him to feel something when they were reunited.

Between waking, reading, and eating, John also learned what it was that had actually happened to him. It seems he was leaving a pub after a night out with his old rugby mates when he was mugged. He was corned in a dark alley, typical he thought, and had apparently tried to play hero, as was his naught. He'd steadfastly refused to hand over his wallet, which earned him a good whollap to his stomach which caused him to double over. As he was bent over one of the men cracked him across his back with a slim, wooden pole. From that point forward the event was a bit fuzzy because the police gathered information from a few witnesses, and none had actually seen the entire event. None of the attackers were captured. John himself couldn't even piece together the occasion…he didn't remember any of it.

John learned that he was rescued by another group of patrons who'd stepped out of the pub and heard his pained cries. They scared off the attackers, only to find John passed out and bleeding. They'd called 999 immediately, an ambulance collecting the army doctor from the alley and bringing him to the hospital. He was in Bart's for a week before Jim intervened and had him transferred to a more lucrative, and strangely, very private hospital so that John could get nothing but the best care and attention. He also learned that he'd actually woke while at Bart's, and upon doing so was when Jim stepped in, transferring him to a hospital John still had yet to learn its name. Some of the doctor's methods also left something to be desired, in John's opinion.

John might have lost a good chunk of his memories, but he'd never met a doctor who seemed so nervous all of the time. Each time Dr. Ward came to speak with him, he seemed shaken. John was in no position to really comment on it, but something about the man just seemed…strange. The nurse, however, was always lovely. She greeted John with a smile each morning, and talked to him as if he hadn't lost the last few years of his life. She did seem to like to go on and on about 'his' Jim and how lovely he was. She also supplied John with a rather detailed description of the man who was supposedly his husband. There was an image of the man in his head, but it was fuzzy, like a camera out of focus. Try as he might, John could never seem to get the image in complete focus. The strangest part of it all, however, was the dreams that would plague him each night he closed his eyes.

At night John was tormented with dreams. In his dreams he was running through the streets of London, a man at his side. He couldn't make out much of the man next to him, because for some reason John could not turn his head. All he could use was his peripheral vision, and even then that left a lot to be desired. He caught the color blue, accompanied by swishing black. All in all it meant nothing to him. The phantom feeling of adrenaline and danger left him wanting, but for what he wasn't sure. There were also other figures in is dream, but like the image he held of Jim in his mind, they were all out of focus. Their voices muffled, as if John was lying at the bottom of a lake, looking up at all these figures huddled around him. No one seemed to want to reach out to him, content to just let him drown. That dream woke him, left him gasping and coughing, then aching in his broken body.

To be completely honest, the biggest annoyance in his life currently was his feeling of helplessness. Due to his broken leg, broken ribs, and severe concussion, John was sentenced to bed rest until further notice, something he didn't completely agree with, but complied to anyways. He couldn't recall anything past his painful plane ride home with a hole in his shoulder, and the walls he was confined to because his army pension couldn't buy him anything else. It was all very depressing. John's memories ended in despair, and his life now was depressing.

John was pulled from his thoughts when Kirsty opened his door, clipboard in her hand as always. John offered her a small smile, the shoebox resting next to him. He was rather surprised he'd gotten through all twenty five letters in just four days. Kirsty as well seemed to be surprised by the feat.

"Good morning Mr. Watson," she greeted, the little lilt of an Irish accent making his name sound more exotic.

"Morning Kirsty," he greeted, and no matter how often he'd asked her to call him only John, she never seemed to comply.

"So, now that you've finished the letters, you think you can face the man who wrote them?" she inquired, going to his IV bag, switching it out with a plump new one.

John sighed, his gaze going to his hands folded together in his lap. He'd been continually nervous of meeting his…husband, but knew it would have to be done one day; the problem there was that the days seemed to start passing faster, as if the universe itself was ready to bring him and Jim back together.

"I suppose I haven't much of a choice, yeah?" he said, trying for a bit of humour as he looked up at her.

She looked up from his chart, sad smile on her lips, "Oh luv, you make it sound like you're being led to the gallows. He really is a sweet man, a bit timid, but he cares so deeply for you," she sighed the last bit wistfully. The way she prattled one about Jim made John curious about her own feelings towards the mystery man—his husband.

John sighed again, picking now at the blanket that covered the lower half of his body, "I'm only nervous. I haven't really wrapped my mind around the fact that I'm married to a man…but it seems we've had a lovely life together," he said, raising his head to look at Kirsty, glad to see she was smiling again.

"Maybe seeing him with help to refresh that scrambled brain of yours yeah?" she commented absently, going back into the hall to collect the breakfast that was sent up from the cafeteria for him.

"Well, that's what I'm hoping. We've shared such a history together, I don't see how seeing him couldn't spark something," he replied as she came back into the room, setting his tray on the moveable table attached to his bedside.

Kirsty remained standing at the end of his bed, just smiling at him. John looked up from peeling his lime jelly open, his brows furrowed curiously at her. Usually she was gone from his room at this point, tending to whatever other patients needed her.

"What is it?" he asked her, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he set the jelly down, breakfast now forgotten.

Her smile widened, but she remained silent. John was even more worried at this point. He kept his pointed gaze on her. She seemed to be vibrating, oddly, but continued to say nothing before quickly turning and exiting the room. John let out a breath, very gently shaking his head at her antics. He went back to his jelly, pulling the foil all the way off before sinking his spoon into the wiggly green mass. He had just put the spoon into his mouth when a faint knock sounded at his door. John quickly swallowed the jelly.

"What now Kirsty, got some more gossip to share?" he called, a smirk lighting his lips as he waited for the female to come back into his room.

"Ah, uhm…no gossip here," a very male voice responded, his accent hinting at Irish roots just as Kirsty's had, though this one held a stronger presence.

John snapped his head up, hissing in pain with the sudden and jarring motion. His heart pounded against his ribs. Somehow, for some reason, he remembered that voice.

_"Jim Moriarty, hi!"_

"J-Jim?" he breathed, curling his hands into the sheets to hide the sudden tremors that overtook them.

The body that belonged to the voice stepped fully into the room. He wasn't overly tall, but a good inch or two taller than John. His face squared near the forehead, but tapered into a more triangular point at his chin. His skin was fair, free of any blemishes, and the hair atop his head was a dark brown. It was cut neatly, kept short and gelled back. There was a hint of stubble on his top lip and along his jaw over his chin. His mouth was small, but his lower lip was plump, the sight of it causing a peculiar jolt of something to race down John's spine. Next were the eyes, their color reminding John of sweet chocolates. They were soft, kind, bordered by a few small wrinkles of worry. Overall he looked unassuming, and John had to admit, adorable. He wore a plain white tee with a grey cardigan over it. His jeans were well worn, fading around the knees and along the seams.

"Oh, John," the man breathed, a smile brightening his face showing off shiny white teeth. For some reason a sudden image of a shark flashed through John's head.

John cleared his throat, nerves now getting the best of him. He hadn't a clue what to say to this man. He tried to grasp anything, but words failed him. He watched as Jim slowly walked around the bed, coming to stand at John's hip. He was fiddling with his nails, absently picking at them while his eyes moved over John's prone body.

"I'm sorry," John blurted, making Jim jump and turn his big, brown eyes on him. John looked away with a blush. He felt sudden warmth on his upper arm, most likely Jim's hand, trying to offer comfort, but it was gone quickly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for John," Jim stated, his voice catching slightly, his nerves showing.

John looked up, a sad smile on his lips, "I can't remember anything. I don't remember you, and I don't remember much of what's in the letters. I'm sorry for that, and the pain is must cause you," he clarified for Jim.

Jim shot him a nervous smile before pulling a chair to John's bedside and dropping down rather gracefully to sit. He bent his head to look at his fingers in his lap, "It's not your fault John. The doctor has assured me you should remember little by little. I just…I wanted the letters to prepare you for seeing me…getting used to the idea of being married…uhm…to a man."

John smiled. So far he wasn't sure why he'd initially felt frightened of meeting Jim face to face. "Hey, I admit, it was rather startling to wake up and find out, but…we'll get through it yeah?"

Jim looked up; his eyes shimmering with what John could only guess were tears. He scooted forward, placing his hand more confidently on John's arm, squeezing gently, "You always put others first John. Right now just focus on yourself, okay? Let the memories come as they may and don't…don't force yourself to feel anything that might not be there."

John smiled; already feeling relaxed in the presence of the man. He wanted to reach over with his other hand to pat Jim's, but his aching body prevented the motion, so he nodded very slowly instead.

"We will get through this," John said, his voice more firm now, an odd rush of relief rushing through him as he started to truly realise he wouldn't be going through this alone. He shifted his arm, letting his hand flip, putting his palm up. He smiled warmly at Jim, and when the man's fingers linked with his own, he squeezed them gently.

**It seems something of yours has fallen into my lap. I'll be sure to take very…very good care of him. –JM**

_**Who is this? –SH** _

**You're not the only magician Sherlock, and now you'll know what it is to truly burn. –JM**

_**Don't you dare touch him. I watched you die once, and I will end you again—for real this time. Your web is weakening. –SH** _

**The game, Sherlock, is on. –JM**

Long, slim fingers shook violently as they worked to furiously type out a message.

_**You promised me nothing would happen to him while I was gone. –SH** _

**Apologies brother dear. I cannot excuse what happened to the doctor, my men have been working day and night to locate him. I fear it is time for you to return to London and end this once and for all. –MH**

_**Your incompetence knows no bounds. Know that my trust in you is wavering and I will only accept minimal help from you. –SH** _

**I have arranged a flight home, all the information we have will be waiting for you along with an agent. Should you require anything more, let me know. For now finding John and Moriarty have priority. –MH**

_**Good. –SH** _

The phone was slipped back into the deep pocket of the long, dark, coat. The spine belonging to the tall, rail thin man straightened. He swiped one hand, stained with blood, along the coarse material of the coat he wore before stepping out of the alley. His quick, iridescent eyes scanned the near empty street before walking back towards the room where he was staying. The more he let the current situation sink in, the further his shoulders hunched, the more knots tangled in his gut, and the heavier the darkness seemed to fall over him.

To say that Sherlock Holmes was angry would be an understatement. He was completely livid, but he wasn't sure who received the brunt of his emotions. He and Mycroft were both at fault, and all that he was sure of as he hurried to grab his things was that, by the end of this, Jim Moriarty would be dead—for good this time.


	12. And Where Do We Go From Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised with how fast these are coming out, but apparently the plot bunnies just won't let me go and I need to write it all down before they leave me high and dry! Thanks to my beta Grizziesmom, this chapter is amazing! Also, wish my other lovely beta MeddlingAdler lots of luck while she works through her end of school exams! Also, as usual, please let me know what you think! Love you all for giving me the confidence to keep writing this story!

John had been in the private hospital for a little over five days, all of them awake and confused. He'd visited with Jim for two of those days, his visits lasting anywhere from an hour to three hours at a time. John found the man to be warm and receptive, but nothing made his heart stutter or skip a beat. He didn't know how they could have had such an amazing life together, but nothing, not even a spike in blood pressure, indicated that they'd shared so much as a kiss. John hated how timid Jim acted around him. It seemed almost as if he was afraid of doing something, anything that would wreak havoc on all the progress John had made so far.

As it was at the moment, John was sitting, the back of his bed raised to help him out with the simple position. He hated that his pain medications were beginning to be tapered back, but he knew it was essential to him healing. In his new, slightly elevated position, each breath made his lungs ache. He gritted his teeth when it got too bad, but more so than not, he really wished he was still asleep, back in a place where he could just float forever in oblivion and the pain was nonexistent.

"John, do you need some more medication?" Jim asked, sitting up straighter in the chair he had next to John's bedside.

John blinked, turning his head slowly, having learned his fair share of lessons of moving too quickly, to regard Jim. He smiled softly at the man.

"No, no, I'll be fine. This is much more preferable to the pain back when I was shot in Afghanistan. I wish that's what I'd forgotten instead of…" he trailed off, a light pink hue touching his cheeks as he looked down at his lap. It was still so surreal to think himself married to the brunet man seated at his side.

Jim seemed to shy away when John's war wound was brought up; he didn't seem to like any subject that involved John in any sort of pain. John found it endearing how protective he was, even going so far as to tell off the doctor for trying to rush John into practice using his crutches before the little doctor was ready to do so.

"It's okay John, I know this will all take time. I am a very patient man, and I just want to support you through it any way I can," he smiled up at the blond man, his hand reaching across the void to awkwardly pat John's hand.

That was another thing John had to get used to; another man touching him in such intimate ways. It didn't make him feel too uncomfortable. After all he did have a few army mates' cocks down his throat when times got too hard during the war. But that had been a secret sort of thing; something that they never ever spoke of after it was all said and done. Even barring those encounters John couldn't remember a time he'd ever been attracted to a man. Well, that's a lie. Whenever John would concentrate; trying to dredge up any sort of inkling to his being receptive to a sexual relationship with a man, an unbidden image of dark curls would flash so quickly in his mind. He had no idea who the curls belonged to, or if they were even connected to a male, but the image always seemed to leave him breathless.

John was pulled from his silent contemplations when a white cup of water was placed below his nose. He flinched back, an uncomfortable noise jumping from his throat as crimson rose in his cheeks from embarrassment. He took the cup, glancing up at Jim, an apologetic smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he muttered, lifting the rim of the cup to his lips and drinking down the cool liquid. He set it on the table above his legs, "Sorry about that, I got lost in my head again."

Jim nodded, his hands gently curled around the railing of John's bed, "No, that's fine. I like when you go into your head, it makes me hopeful…which I am hopeful now, but…just, I hope you find something of us in there," he cocked his head, a gentle smile touching his lips. John saw his fingers twitch, as if he wanted to reach out and touch any part of John that he could. A shiver raced down his spine at the mere thought of it.

John chuckled softly, leaning his head back against the plush pillow, "I hope so too Jim. I hate seeing how much this hurts you…that I can't recall a single thing after coming home those few years ago." John sighed in annoyance, knowing that dwelling too long on the issue would make his brain pound against his skull, rebelling at having to work so hard.

Jim nodded, his hands tightening on the railing a moment before he pulled them off.

"Your doctor said he'd be stopping by today, hopefully with news on when you can go home," Jim stated, moving from the bed to stand at the window, his keen eyes looking out through the blinds into a bright shock of sunlight.

"God I hope it's today," John groaned, eyes closing softly as he tried to think of home. He knew he'd not get out today, but he bloody well hated hospitals.

Jim chuckled gently, his hands clasped behind his back. Today he was dressed in a pair of jeans, a brown belt, and a light grey tee shirt. He looked so young, John thought. Jim turned to regard John, his brown eyes warm, shimmering with stolen sunlight from the window.

"Doctors really do seem to make the worst patients," he teased gently, lips curling to show gleaming white teeth.

For some reason the sight made John think of a snake just before it strikes. For a fleeting moment, wherein John wasn't even sure it had happened, he was gripped with a sudden, icy feeling of pure terror. As quickly as the feeling had come, it had gone. He blinked a few times, confused. He hadn't a clue where it had come from. He let out a slow breath, his gaze focusing again to see Jim's head cocked curiously, worry in his eyes. John smiled softly, hoping he could school his face into a look of apology.

"Sorry, thought I was remembering something, but it's gone now," he lied easily enough.

Jim had pulled his lips apart, most likely to retort what John had just said, but then the door to the room opened. Both men looked towards the interruption to see the doctor entering. He carried a manila file along with a clipboard. Kirsty followed behind, giant grin pulling at her lips as she moved around John's bed to check a few things.

"Morning boys, how are we feeling?" she chirped, shifting the blanket that covered John's cast covered leg to check how the skin protruding from the top of the cast was looking, as well as some of the stitched incisions on his abdomen.

"Be better if I was out of here," John muttered, though the smile on his face was friendly enough. Kirsty only nodded in understanding.

Jim turned to regard the doctor himself, "We're fine, but do you have any news?"

The doctor looked quickly from Jim to settle his gaze on John. He seemed to try and ignore Jim to the best of his abilities while they were in the room together. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, actually, I came to let you know the results of the most recent MRI and CATscan are looking good. The swelling has gone down, almost back to normal and the bruising seems to be clearing up nicely as well. With any luck, those lost memories should start to return in time. As for your leg, well, as you know it was a pretty clean break, easy to set, so healing time should be about five more weeks." He paused to allow for any questions. "Lastly, John, your release date is dependent on us getting you to sit in a chair for two hours, and proper training with a pair of crutches. I don't see why you can't go home in about three days, pending your head and leg." He quickly looked between Jim and John before nervously clearing his throat.

John nodded slowly, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to get out, "Right, well, all that sounds fair enough. Will we attempt sitting up today then?"

Kirsty looked to the doctor, waiting to see what he'd advise them to do. He looked at Jim quickly before addressing John once more.

"This afternoon I think we should give it a go, see what happens. We'll go from there. You're lucky to have only broken two of your ribs, otherwise you could be here for another week," he added a shaky smile for John before handing Jim the file he'd brought in. He said goodbye and left the room with Kirsty.

Jim opened the file, glancing at the papers inside before closing it and looking at John with a soft smile.

"Well, that sounds promising. I hope it all goes well. I'll try to be back for this afternoon, but for now I must attend a meeting. A new company has come crawling, asking for my help," he rolled his eyes as if it was some great burden. He moved slowly to stand again at John's side, his hands once more gripping the railing.

John smiled, nodding very minutely, "That's fine, I think I want to take the time to mentally prepare myself for what's about to happen. Enjoy your work, yeah?"

Jim bent down, his lips ghosting along John's temple, "Don't overdo anything, I don't need you setting yourself back," he stated, his hands slipping from the rail as he stepped back again, this time angled towards the door.

"Ta, I'll be fine, go…go work and entertain yourself outside this room," John chuckled, lifting his hand to wave Jim away.

Jim smiled, nodding, "I'm going, I'm going," he called, his voice sing-songy as he finally started to walk towards the door, "I will be back later, don't do anything extensive until then. Take care!" he waved before finally disappearing behind the door.

John let out a slow breath. It was all still so surreal. He turned to the right, the bedside table easy enough to reach. He grabbed the shoebox and settled it on his lap. He lifted the lid, his gaze taking in the numerous pieces of folded papers. He shuffled his hand through them before grabbing one and pulling it out. It was odd now. He looked to these letters as a sort of security blanket. Reading about the times he was happiest made him hope for a brighter tomorrow. He also vowed, settling in to read again about the first time he'd met Jim's mum, that he'd do whatever he could to make this all easier on himself and Jim.

Stepping outside of John's door, Jim quickly schooled his face into a mask of ice. His brown eyes hardened sharply. His spine straightened as he strode past the few rooms and towards the main lobby, which was no larger than an average sized sitting room. He paid no heed to the skeleton crew, his phone sliding from the pocket of his trousers as he sent a text message. He smirked to himself, breathing in the fresh air as he stepped out of the small, nondescript building. He looked around again at the lush, rolling, green hills that surrounded the small country hospital, confident of his location choice; no one would think to look for John Watson here.

"Boss?" a rough, deep baritone broke Moriarty from his musings.

The spider turned his elegant neck, his eyes raking over the tall, muscular man standing next to a black Mercedes, the back door open. He pulled his sunglasses from the pocket over his breast and slid them on.

"Sebastian, darling, pray tell why you couldn't orchestrate a simple execution?" Moriarty purred dangerously as he passed the ex-military man to get into the back seat of his car.

The sniper followed, the door closing behind him. He removed the dark sunglasses he wore, his blond fringe falling into his cool green eyes. His top lip was split by an ugly scar that ended just below his left eye.

"There was nothing simple 'bout it. Ever since you pulled that stunt on Bart's roof, all our plans have gone to shit, all except for that little doctor."

Moriarty cocked his head, his lips curling as he picked up the slight hint of jealousy in Moran's tone. He so hated the plan that involved John Watson. Sebby didn't like to share.

"That little doctor is the key to everything pet. Your boys did a wonderful job with him. If you recall, I let two of the three live."

He slid closer to Sebastian, pressing his leg along the larger man's, his eyes flashing dangerously behind his tinted glasses. Sebastian growled, his fingers digging into the palm of his hand.

"But Holmes has killed almost all of our foreign sects, no doubt he's learned about Dr. Watson disappearing from Bart's. He's probably left London already, looking for any trace of his blogger. I don't see why you won't just let me kill him and his doctor." Sebastian's voice took on a more petulant tone, his lips tugging down into a frown.

Moriarty made a tsking noise with his tongue, shifting to crawl into Sebastian's lap, straddling him. He pressed his palms against the man's broad chest, his fingers curling into the tight muscles that covered his breastbone.

"Darling, you're all action, action, action. I want to play with the silly little detective. I want to push him to the edge, let him dangle there for a bit before finally pushing him to his death…his actual death this time." Moriarty leaned into Seb's neck, nipping at the chords there, his sharp canines leaving indents. "Besides, the doctor isn't half bad looking. When the time comes, I want to fuck him, horror in his eyes as he realises everything I made him believe, all the happiness he thinks was his was just a lie, and he's just broken, useless, and utterly beyond saving. He'll look so good on my cock then. Maybe Sherlock can watch," Moriarty shuddered, his eyes glimmering in excitement, his own cock coming alive with his plan, "When he cums, you can shoot him in the head," Moriarty breathed, his breath ghosting over Moran's silky lips. He curled his lips into a grin just before Moran surged forward, pressing a hard, biting kiss to Moriarty's smooth ones, the sharp metallic taste of blood exploding between them.

"Fuck," Moran breathed, his hips jutting up, his own hard-on pressing against Jim, "I can't wait for all this shite to be over," he growled, ducking his head to nip along Moriarty's neck, careful not to leave a mark, lest John see.

Moriarty cackled, his fingers moving to tangle in Moran's hair, his nails biting into his scalp.

"Don't worry tiger, you're still daddy's favourite," he breathed before allowing the man to lay him across the seat.

* * *

Sherlock slammed the report down on Mycroft's desk. "How do you not know where he is? You have eyes everywhere!"

Mycroft remained stoic. He knew Sherlock would be furious once he knew all the facts. "Moriarty hasn't left a clue yet, so we're confident that no harm as come to the doctor," he stated, cool eyes ignoring the rage on Sherlock's face.

"A clue? You're sitting here waiting for a clue? What if he doesn't deign to leave one? I've dismantled a substantial amount of his web. He's weak! He's going to act irrationally. He's finally been reduced to a common criminal. He isn't going to leave a clue. This is about revenge. He'll kill John before your damn dogs even catch a whiff of him."

Spittle coated his lips after his shouted statement. Mycroft pulled in a deep breath.

"My men have been working 'round the clock to track Moriarty. He can't have gone too far Sherlock, not with the state Dr. Watson was in. We will find him…with your help," he rose from his chair then, grabbing his umbrella from where it hung on the arm.

"Your men are all idiots, no more use than Anderson in a dark room with a candle and lit match. From now on I work on this alone. Send everything you have to Baker Street. Do not bother me with anything else. I will contact you if I need anything. Do. You. Understand?"

Sherlock's grey eyes were fierce, his long fingers curled into tight, shaking fists. He was fighting just to keep himself from screaming in frustration at how badly his brother had cocked up the one—the most important job Sherlock had ever given him.

"You will not do this alone. The agent who flew home with you will assist. He is remarkable, and has been key in our investigation into Moriarty. You will work with him or I will refuse to give you the information you requested."

He lifted his chin, leveling his gaze at his brother, refusing to be cowed. His grip tightened on his umbrella as sentiment warred with his mind, wanting nothing more than to belie his little brother's fears and bring John home safely.

Sherlock's lips thinned into a hard, white line. His eyes flashed dangerously as he studied Mycroft, picking him apart in the way only he could. He could see the late night Brandies etched in the new lines at the corners of Mycroft's eyes. He could pick out the new creases in his suit jacket due to sleepless nights, most likely spent worrying after Sherlock in his quest to tear Moriarty to pieces. He could also see the sentiment, and that sickened him. He looked away, breath coming out in a slow whoosh.

"Fine, I'll take a baby-sitter, but only because this is about John. You may find caring to be a disadvantage, but I've learned that caring can be the biggest advantage. It enables you to do anything… _anything_ to get back the one person you care about. I will do anything Mycroft. Remember that," he hissed the last word before turning on his heel and exiting his brother's office, long strides rigid as he fumed.

Mycroft let out a breath, his shoulders sagging very minutely.

"Sir?" a soft feminine voice lilted into the room.

Mycroft looked up, forcing a smile for his assistant.

"Send agent Graham to Baker Street with the Moriarty and Dr. Watson files, please," he ordered, rounding his desk as he moved to exit his office.

"Yes sir. Take care of yourself too," Anthea nodded as she turned slightly, catching his eyes before he smiled tightly and disappeared.

Things seemed to be going to hell in a hand basket—fast.


	13. There's Still Time for Us to Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grizziesmom is amazing. She betaed this chapter for me, and for all of you! She deserves many thanks and praise. Onwards! As usual my lovelies, please let me know what you think of this chapter!

Six days into John's hospital stay, Jim arrived to find John sitting in a high backed chair, head turned towards the window. Beyond the clear pane of glass, one could see rolling green hills cut by a bright blue sky. Jim smiled softly at the sight. He cleared his throat to call attention to himself. He kept a warm smile on his lips as he watched John slowly turn his head to look at him. A small smile, almost embarrassed in nature, turned up John's light pink lips. The bruising along his face had dulled now to a green-yellow colour.

"Good morning, John. Are you feeling any better today?" he asked, sliding his jacket down his arms and hanging it on a hook on the back of the door.

John shifted his weight, grimacing as he did so.

"Ah, not as horrible as the other day, but still hurting more than I'd like," he replied, his words a bit breathy with the ache in his chest.

Jim smiled apologetically as he rounded the bed towards John. He bent to press a kiss to the smaller man's temple, glad to note John was leaning into them now. Jim used the tips of his fingers to brush some blonde fringe from John's forehead before taking a seat at the end of John's bed. As soon as Jim sat down, John turned his head to look out the window once more. He heaved a sigh, basking in the quiet for a minute or two before regarding Jim again.

"So, where exactly am I? I know I lost a few memories, but there's no way London is outside my window," he grinned, shifting a little, becoming uncomfortable now in the chair. He'd managed an hour yesterday morning and again at night, so today after only a half an hour, his body was beginning to protest.

Jim chuckled slightly at the question, shaking his head. His own brown eyes went to the window where a breeze disrupted a nest of dust bunnies on the windowsill.

"No, this is very much not London. As soon as you were stable and waking up, I had you transferred to a more…remote hospital," he said. He stopped, studying John for his reaction to better gauge how he should proceed.

John furrowed his brows, confused, his lips pulling apart slowly while his brain formed a question, but Jim jumped in before John could say anything.

"By remote I mean, a small, very private hospital near Glastonbury. We've a summer home here in the country…your idea of course, taking us away from the city on holidays. Something about you having always loved the country, wanting to retire there one day, possibly to your grandfather's old farm…" Jim trailed there, adopting a sheepish look on his face, as if he were embarrassed at being caught out.

John nodded slowly, the haze of confusion still clouding his azure eyes.

"Well alright then…but wouldn't an A&E in London be better? More doctors? Specialists?"

At this Jim affectionately rolled his eyes, rising to his feet.

"Do you think I'd have brought you out to some remote location if I had not the utmost respect and knowledge of the doctors?" he asked as his lips widened into a larger grin. Something about it almost looked feral to John.

John turned this information over in his head, trying to figure out why there was a very, very small part of his mindd that told him this wasn't right. He must have been silent for a bit too long because he was jarred from his thoughts by a warm hand placed on his shoulder. He looked up, his blue eyes meeting Jim's brown ones. There was such a soft, comforting look in them that John immediately relaxed, a lazy smile touching his lips. Suddenly, the nagging feeling in the small corner of his mind was gone. He reached up and placed his hand over Jim's, giving a slight squeeze.

"Well, I'm sure it's a lot lovelier here than in London anyways, thanks," he mumbled, letting the tense muscles of his back relax into the chair. He let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, his dusty lashes brushing against his cheeks. He let himself bask in the warm sun washing in through his window before his brows furrowed once more. Jim noted the slight change, his hand sliding down John's arm, a slight squeeze at his elbow.

"What wrong John?"

John squeezed his eyes for a moment, the thought nearly leaving him, but he managed to grab it back.

"Harry…does Harry know where I am?" he opened his eyes then, finding Jim's concerned pools trained on him. John watched as Jim's eyes flicked over his face, reading something. There was tightness in John's chest now, something unrelated to his healing ribs. He recognized that look, it made his heart flutter. He watched as a slow smile came to Jim's lips, his hand loosening its hold at John's elbow.

"Of course John, she saw you off from London. She wanted to come here with you, but she had prior engagements for work. A training conference of some sort in Cardiff, but she did promise to talk to you once you were settled back at our country home."

John wrinkled his nose a bit at the mention of Cardiff. Then he smirked, remembering how much Harry had detested Wales until she'd taken Clara there for a holiday trip and Clara had fallen in love with the country. From then on, Harry swore that she'd always loved Cardiff, even when John tried to remind her of all the nasty things she'd said while in secondary school. He chuckled, his heart warming with the thought of Harry and how worried she must have been. He made a mental note to call her as soon as he could.

"Thank you Jim, for everything. I am really sorry that I can't seem to remember much but…it will come. I'm sure of it."

Jim shook his head, "John, stop apologising. I've told you time and again that none of it was your fault. I just wish I could find those idiots that did this and make them…" Jim caught himself at the last second and forced a smile, "Well anyways, we're here now. We'll just work through the rest. It'll be like falling in love all over again."

John grinned, a hint of rouge touching his cheeks before he looked down at his lap. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah…I look forward to it Jim…really," he admitted, his voice almost too soft a whisper to hear, but Jim caught it nonetheless.

"I am a patient man John. I just look forward to getting you out of this dreadful place. The house is much too quiet without you. I'm sure you can't wait to get out, but I think I would like it a lot more for you to be at home where you belong with me. I really think it'd help with your memories too, being somewhere you're familiar with," Jim said as he moved to resume his seat at the end of John's bed, his fingers smoothing down John's arm and across the back of his hand as he moved.

Both men looked up when the nurse entered, her lips pulled back in an ever-present, almost overly friendly smile. She plucked up John's chart, marking something, then put it back into its holder. John had actually managed to snag his chart the other day, giving it a look over himself, actually satisfied with the information on it.

"Good morning Doctor Watson," she trilled, having taken to calling him that now, even when he insisted she call him John.

John smiled at her, shifting a little to get into position to push himself from the chair, "Morning, Nurse," he smirked at her frown. John had taken to calling Kirsten nurse in retaliation of her calling him Doctor Watson.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing on his as her lips quivered into a flirty grin, "So we're still playin' the game huh, Doctor? Well, I am persistent," she winked, rounding on John now, standing next to his chair.

Jim rolled his eyes, "Come now you two, he is a married man after all," he grinned as both parties turned to regard him, John's cheeks turning red while Kirsten just smiled knowingly.

"Right he is, but it's time to get him back to bed, let him rest up for a little bit before we attempt crutches, see where his strength is at. The doctor is pretty confident that you should be going home tomorrow night," she turned then and beckoned Jim to help John get to his feet.

Jim rose to his feet, shuffling a little so that he stood in front of John. He smiled down at the blond, leaning forward to hook an arm under John's good shoulder. They'd done this a few times, and each time there was always a measure of rigidness in John, as if he still didn't trust Jim. Jim's other arm curled gently around John's waist, steadying him as the smaller man rose unsteadily to his feet. John gripped Jim's biceps, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his equilibrium. After a moment his eyes fluttered open and he smiled gratefully at Jim.

"Thanks," he muttered, suddenly feeling quite warm with the lack of space that now existed between him and the other man.

Jim grinned, pivoting them so that John's back was to the bed.

"My pleasure, Johnny," he breathed, leaning close to his ear. He smirked, satisfied by the shiver he saw race down John's spine.

Nurse Kirsty cleared her throat, reminding the men she was still in the room.

"Right, boys, nothing dangerous now. Doctor Watson still has some healin' to do, so hands off," she grinned sweetly, moving to shoo Jim from where he stood next to John. She helped the blond shift into the middle of his bed pulling the blanket up over his lap. She swiveled the table around to rest in front of John, "Lunch will be right in, luv. Now, get some rest and think about tackling those crutches in a few hours."

John gave her an indulgent smile before waving her out. He watched the woman leave, noting once again, that he felt no real attraction to her. She was highly attractive, soft curves, flouncy hair, plump lips, and legs that never ended. His mouth should be watering for her, but she barely registered to him. He let his gaze slowly slide back to Jim, studying him again. His heart did speed up some, but that could be a whole slew of factors. He did feel a pull towards Jim. He figured he should, given the fact they were married to one another, but there was still a lack of sexual attraction. He sighed gently, closing his eyes for a moment, pulling himself out of the black recesses of his mind. _'It will come back'_ , that's what the doctor assured him, so he knew he should stop forcing it, but he hated not knowing. He curled his fist, clenching the sheets tightly. He wasn't even aware of the action until he felt another hand encompass his own.

"John, are you okay in there?" Jim's soft voice worked around the curtain in John's mind.

Blue eyes slowly fluttered open, turning to find Jim. John smiled softly, turning his hand over so that Jim could link their fingers together.

"Yeah, fine, just…just thinking of the memories you wrote down. I am hoping that the more I think about them, the better I'll remember our life," he admitted, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish at the admission.

Jim chuckled slightly, pulling up a chair.

"Nothing to fret over silly, I want you to remember us, but honestly, all I really care about is having you here with me right now. I could have just as easily lost you, and this…you with a few holes in your memory is far more preferable to you not being here."

He leaned forward, his hand smoothing along John's thigh in a comforting manner. Jim was just about to offer more placating words when the nurse appeared again, a blue tray with a plastic dome atop it in her hands. She grinned at the both of them before slipping the meal in front of John.

"Eat up doctor Watson, your fella knows where the cafeteria is," she winked at the blond man before pulling the plastic dome from the tray and exited once more.

"She is, as always, such a breath of fresh air," Jim's statement was muttered, his eyes rolled as he deflated back into the chair.

John chuckled, reaching forward for the small can of soda. He popped the top before lifting it to his lips, letting the cool liquid slide down his parched throat. Something about Jim's behaviour towards the nurse made something pull in his chest. He recognised the jealous, petulant behaviour, but it didn't seem to fit with the picture he'd formed of Jim in his mind. Jim seemed to have a more solid head on his shoulders. He didn't seem the type to do something without thinking it entirely through first, keeping his emotions in check, and presenting himself as nothing but professional to those he met. Somehow, the childish antics he just displayed made something twist in John's heart and he smiled warmly, looking down at his hospital food.

"She's nice, and you should be nice to her," John admonished, picking up half of his turkey sandwich. He took a large bite of it, smiling around his mouthful at Jim, who seemed to scowl even deeper.

"I am nice to her, but she doesn't have to be so nice to you. You're a patient. Obviously, there's a line and she shouldn't cross it," Jim muttered, turning his head away from John, his jaw rigid as he gazed out the window.

John swallowed his bite, "Bollocks Jim, she's been friendly and professional. Nothing more and nothing less…" he trailed, a slow smile curving his lips.

The silence irritated Jim so he turned to regard John, his own mouth turning down in a frown.

"What?" he nearly snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

John chuckled.

"Are you jealous Jim?" he teased, cocking his head slightly, picking off a part of the crust to his sandwich. He nibbled on it as he watched the man sitting next to him.

Jim's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"No, I am not jealous. I merely think her professionalism leads a lot to be desired," he huffed, turning his head to resume looking outside once more.

John just shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"If you say so, love. If you say so," John said easily. The endearment slipped out so naturally, John didn't even realise he'd said it.

Jim heard it, however, and with his head turned towards the horizon, he allowed a cruel smile to curl the corners of his lips. Everything was going so well. He briefly thought of keeping the little doctor all for himself, but playing the big, silly detective was so much more fun. He had promised to burn the detective's heart out of him, and Jim Moriarty was nothing if not a promise keeper.

* * *

Back at 221B Baker Street, a whole different scene presented itself. Sherlock had upset nearly every inch of the flat, searching for any sort of clue the criminal mastermind left behind, but there was nothing. That was the most unusual thing about the case so far. Jim loved to play. He dangled carrots in front of Sherlock's nose, coaxing him out, watching him run all over London. He enjoyed the way Sherlock matched his wits. But not this time. John was just gone. Taken from his room in Bart's, and just gone. The very last CCTV footage of him was John slumped forward in a wheelchair, being pushed down the hall towards the MRI room, but he never made it.

"There has got to be something! We're missing something. There is always a clue. He always want to play," Sherlock hissed under his breath as he dumped John's dirty laundry across the floor.

Sherlock stood, blinking down at the pile of rumpled clothes. Before his mind registered what he was doing, he'd fallen to his knees. He reached out, snagging the black and white striped jumper. It was larger now, more stretched out. Sherlock brought it to his nose, inhaling a deep breath. He could smell John, the very essence of the man himself. Sherlock's stomach lurched painfully, something sharp twisting in his chest. He inhaled again, drawing all the molecules of John he could into his nose. His long, bony fingers curled tightly into the material of the jumper. An image of the doctor, short hair mussed by sleep, face holding the lines of his pillow, eyes still a little puffy, the jumper hanging off one shoulder, and the light, blue hue of boxer shorts peeking out beneath the jumper rose unbidden into Sherlock's mind. He made a choked sobbing noise, his grey eyes screwing shut.

"I will find you John, and I will get you back," he growled, letting the jumper fall from his grasp. He jumped up to his feet once more, pacing in the sitting room. He didn't even acknowledge the man coming up the stairs, knowing it was the agent Mycroft had tasked to babysitting him.

"Hullo!" the agent called cheerily, rapping his knuckles against the doorjamb before entering. He carried a cardboard tray with two cups of hot coffee and a bag of biscotti's.

Sherlock kept up his pacing.

"I have no need for you. You can see I am still alive, no track marks, and the flat is still standing. You can go now," he growled, turning on his heel to do another circuit about the room.

Agent Harold Graham shook his head, feathery locks of dark brown hair falling into his hazel eyes with the action.

"No can do Sherlock, you know I have strict orders from your brother himself. I can't disobey," he called back, grabbing one of the coffees and going to join Sherlock in the sitting room.

Agent Harold Graham was a solid man. He stood at 6 feet 4 inches. His body was a lean mass of rip-cord muscle, bunching and pulling with every movement of his body. His jaw was square, dusted by dark stubble, as if the man hardly thought to shave on any given morning. He wore a smart suit, as was standard with an MI-6 agent. His trousers were black, shoes polished immaculately, button up shirt a light green with a dark blue tie accenting the ensemble. His hands were large and square, able to crush the larynx of his enemy with one, hard squeeze.

Sherlock rolled his eyes before going to his chair. He used his bare foot, poking out of tattered grey tracksuit trousers, to push the large box of files into the space between him and Graham.

"My brother does not control me and by extension, you cannot control me either. It would be much more effective for you to leave."

Graham, knowing all of Sherlock's quirks and personality…disorders, merely took his attitude in stride.

"You said the same thing to me yesterday. I'm not going anywhere, Sherlock. We're stuck working on this together, which I thought you'd appreciate given it is your friend who is missing," he raised a well-trimmed eyebrow at the man.

Sherlock huffed, pulling his old dressing gown tighter against his frame.

"Tedious. Mycroft knows I do not… _play_ well with others. I don't even know why he assigned you this job," he sniffed disdainfully, turning his gaze away from the agent to sweep around the flat once more, his eyes scanning everything.

Graham chuckled, leaning back into the sofa, raising the coffee to his lips to sip at it.

"He worries about you, Sherlock. You just came home from a global killing spree. There's likely to be residual damage and fallout to come from such escapades. You can't blame Mycroft. He's family and he loves you."

Sherlock cringed at the sentiment. He turned to regard Graham, his eyes moving over the taller man's body. Sherlock's lips curled.

"Ah, I see! You're doing this because you hope to get back in his good graces. He loved you and left you, didn't he? He won't be back for more, Agent. Mycroft's not the type to be sentimental with any of his toys. You're better off actually pursuing the young coffee boy. You've a much better shot with him."

Graham simply shifted a little, already prepared for Sherlock's use of his observational skills against him.

"I am well aware, Mr. Holmes, but we've business to attend to now. You can either help me or keep deducing me, but either way, I am leading the investigation into Moriarty, and I can pull all of my files from you," his hazel eyes were steady as he stared Sherlock down.

Sherlock narrowed his own gaze, almost falling into a petulant tantrum when he heard John's voice in the back of his mind scolding him. He shivered, breaking eye contact. He looked down at the box of files, leaning down to grab a few. He'd already gone through them all, but a second look wouldn't hurt, and it could turn up something they'd missed previously.

"You do have a job, Agent Graham, and that's to make sure John Watson comes home alive and in one piece. That is our main focus," he rumbled, flipping the file open in his lap, eyes racing over the page as he picked apart the information once more, hoping to find anything that could be helpful.


	14. Who We Are When We Arrive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long guys, but moving and having a new puppy is lots of work as well as an impromptu trip the hospital, but I am alright now…though I do have to have surgery sometime soon to get my gallbladder removed, but until then, I shall write! Many gracious thanks to grizzliesmom for her amazing beta skills!

John looked up at the house, well cottage more like, in front of him. He had thought the structure would be much larger and grandiose from the way Jim had spoken about their obvious difference in financial backgrounds, but rather it was modest looking. Green vines climbed the front facing wall, artfully curling around two large windows and a white door. The cottage was made from red brick with a stone path leading from the front door to a gate in a rickety looking fence. A variety of different coloured flowers dotted the front yard, bisected by soft, vibrantly green grass. The sight alone calmed John, made the nerves he'd felt upon being released calm.

He and Jim had left the hospital not even an hour before, and already John was feeling infinitely better. He wasn't sure if it was accredited to the fresh air, or the feeling of freedom. He'd been given the typical parting speech by his doctor, but paid no mind to it, already knowing what to expect and what to do when at home. There was still a faint ache in his skull, but nothing compared to what he'd experienced on waking fully nearly a week before. He shifted his weight, leaning more fully on his left crutch, letting out a slow breath as his ribs began to protest the short walk from Jim's hired car to the entrance of the cottage.

Jim tsked, pulling a key from the pocket of his jeans, "Why is it that doctors make the worst patients?" he muttered under his breath, casting a sidelong glance at John before unlocking the door.

John merely rolled his eyes, "I wasn't expecting such a quaint cottage," he stated, changing the subject, feeling uncomfortable at being fussed over.

Jim turned back, dropping his key into a small blue and white bowl on a table next to the door, he smirked, looking around the small entryway, "You insisted our holiday home be something…pedestrian…" he uttered the last word almost distastefully, but covered it up with a sweet smile, ushering John inside.

John looked around. The floor was scuffed wood covered by a red rug where a few different pairs of shoes resided as well as a silver umbrella stand. A few brass hooks hung on the wall opposite the door, three of them occupied by light spring jackets and a dirty looking jumper. John smiled, picturing himself in the dirtied jumper, hunched over in either the front or back yard planting various plants. It was a hobby he had discovered back when he'd first moved in with Harry. She'd been so distressed by her impending divorce with Clara that her home and the garden she and Clara had taken great pride in had began to suffer. John loved Harry and Clara's garden; it had provided a quiet space for him to be alone with his thoughts in his first few months of being home. Since Harry ignored the plot in favour of a bottle, he'd taken it upon himself to keep it alive.

Jim moved to stand beside John, taking in the things he was seeing. He curled his hand into a fist to keep from reaching out for John. John felt the action, and instead of commenting on it, he shuffled forward, sighing heavily.

"God I am so ready to be in a comfortable bed and eat real food!"

Jim grinned, shaking himself before following John into the cottage.

"Go on then, I made up the guest room for you…I didn't…there's no pressure, John…it's the second door on the left, just down that hall. Get settled while I make a quick lunch," he forced a smile before heading off to the right and into the kitchen.

John watched him go before returning his gaze to the hall Jim had indicated. He sighed, still feeling like some sort of failure in being unable to fully return Jim's feelings. It was still an odd sensation, knowing he had married this man, yet experienced little to no attraction to him. He hoped, mostly for Jim's sake, that it would come back to him. He felt awful thinking of what the man must be experiencing, seeing the man you love, the man you devoted your life to look at you as if you're some sort of stranger. John looked at the kitchen and heard silverware clinking against glasses. He rid himself of the thoughts and hobbled towards the guest room.

The inside of the cottage was simple. The furniture in the main room was rustic, dark wood with deep red cushions, a television on an oak TV stand, soft white curtains billowing in a delicate breeze coming in through the open window. John would have loved to sink into the sofa and watch some mindless telly, but the thought of lying in a bed and sinking into the mattress made his body sag all the more. He continued through the main room and down the hall until he'd reached the guest room. The door was already open. Sunlight flooded the room making the beige carpet glow. He placed his crutches against the bedside table before gingerly lowering himself to sit on the plush mattress. He smoothed his hand along the light blue duvet, his bones already feeling tired.

"Not so young anymore, Johnny boy," he grunted to himself as he struggled to pull his legs onto the bed. He'd worn sweatpants and a loose tee shirt home from the hospital, so he had no need to change into pyjamas. He maneuvered his casted foot until he was comfortably cushioned by the pillows and mattress. He sighed, allowing his body to sink into the softness under him. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, a content smile gracing his lips.

It couldn't have been twenty minutes later when a soft rap at the door woke him from his shallow slumber. John blinked his eyes open, turning to regard Jim. He kept a serene smile on his lips when the man—his husband entered with a wooden tray held in front of him. John struggled to sit up a bit.

"You looked really peaceful, I almost didn't want to wake you, but then I thought you'd enjoy some human food," Jim admitted with a shy smile as he approached the bed and set the tray on the bedside table.

John chuckled, accepting the glass of water and painkiller from Jim's palm, "God, yes! I've missed normal, especially the food," he sighed wistfully after gulping down the pill and water.

Jim beamed, handing John a white china plate with a simple sandwich on it, "Well it's just something simple for now, when you're up to par, I'll start cooking more satisfying things for you. How are you feeling?" he asked, his head tilting to the side, the sun catching and sparkling in his deep brown eyes.

Shivers of something…not quite lust, but not quite disgust either, slid down John's spine at the sight. To save himself from being a bumbling fool, he took a bite out of the sandwich. Jim chuckled quietly, shaking his head. Jon narrowed his gaze at the man, swallowing the food in his mouth before lifting a finger and pointing at Jim. He grinned.

"You just did that thing didn't you? The thing where you read me just by looking at me and knowing exactly what I'm thinking or feeling; I know you wrote about it in your letters, but I thought you were just trying to be a pompous git and win me over with something so extraordinary," he accused, his voice playful with a hint of awe. Somehow the feeling of being read at a glance made his heart thump in familiarity, which he supposed was due to the fact that Jim had been reading John since the moment they'd met, years ago.

Jim merely smirked, "I did, yes. Does it bother you?"

John shook his head, "No…it actually felt…well it felt familiar, which makes sense given our history, but it's the first thing, since waking, that's felt like home."

Jim's smile curled, looking almost cruel, but only for a second before his lips smoothed out into a warm smile. He placed his hand on John's thigh, squeezing very softly, "It will all come back soon John, just give it time and be patient."

John rolled his eyes. He'd heard that phrase more than enough since waking and frankly, he was sick of it. He picked up the glass of water, taking a small drink before setting it back on the table.

"I don't think I can keep myself in bed much longer Jim, I'm going to go stir crazy. Would you mind helping me up, giving me a bit of a tour?"

Jim pursed his lips, obviously thinking it was a bad idea, but swallowing his response in favour of standing instead. He straightened the red polo shirt he was wearing and shot John a very put-upon look.

"I really think you should stay in bed and recuperate, but I suspect if I refuse, you'll get up yourself and wander about on your own," he muttered.

John grinned cheekily, letting Jim know that was exactly what he planned to do should Jim refuse to help him. Jim let out an annoyed sigh, but the light smirk on his lips did little to help the façade he tried to hide behind.

"You know me too well," John teased, shuffling so that he could gently move his legs to dangle over the side of the bed.

Jim huffed, shaking his head again as he bent to slide his arm around John's waist and help the man to stand on his one good leg. He handed over one of John's crutches, which allowed the shorter man to lean on Jim as they moved out of the room.

"I should hope to know you intimately John. We are married after all."

John chuckled, shaking his head, "Let's just get on with it, you git," he muttered.

An odd feeling laced through John as he'd spoken to Jim, an almost familiar, warm sensation, something that made John think he'd uttered the same words before in a similar, teasing manner. He glanced over at Jim, studying the profile of his husband's face. There was still an odd weight in the pit of John's stomach each time he'd study the other man, but it was something he couldn't quite categorize.

It had taken an hour to shuffle John around the small cottage. It was cozy, warm colours, dark wooden floors bisected by deep, soft rugs, simple, abstract paintings hung on the walls, a few potted plants rested in corners, light filtered in through windows making the whole cottage look alive with sunlight. John felt relaxed within the walls, his lungs expanding and deflating with the fresh air. He could almost imagine holidays in the cottage with Jim. In the colder months he could see an orange, warm fire would crackle in the fireplace while the two men snuggled up under the fleece blanket draped over the back of the sofa, steaming mugs of hot cocoa cupped in their hands. John had grinned at the thought before Jim led him towards the back patio.

"I've saved the best for last. Out here is all your influence. It took you a whole summer to get it just right," Jim slid the door open, a blast of warm air caressed John's face.

He had to blink a few times against the intense sun. The day had been abnormally clear and warm. John wanted to take full advantage of it. He stepped out onto the deck, the wood creaking faintly under his foot. Vibrant colours greeted him. The deck itself was rather small, holding a table and chairs, outdoor fire pit, and a grill. Three steps led down to a path of cobblestones that disappeared into tall, green shrubs. Faint sounds of trickling water sounded from behind a cluster of rose bushes. John inhaled deeply, wincing slightly at the protesting of his lungs, but enjoyed the mixed aroma of roses, hyacinth, hydrangea, orchids, and various other flowers.

"Not sure what this says about my manliness," John joked, scooting along to lower himself gently into one of the chairs on the patio.

Jim chuckled, sitting himself in the chair next to John, "Well, it is quite beautiful. It was something you said helped to calm you, an art you'd picked up from when you stayed with your sister after coming home from the war. You told me it helped to quiet the voices…after spending time out here, you'd sleep without nightmares," Jim's voice was soft, wistful even.

John looked over at him, his breath catching when he'd made contact with warm, brown eyes. He smiled, reaching over, resting his hand over Jim's. He smoothed his thumb over the bumps of his knuckles. Jim flipped his own hand, his palm meeting John's, their fingers curling together.

"That sounds like me…it is beautiful."

Jim hummed in agreement, relaxing into the chair, letting the afternoon sun bathe them both, their minds moving along different tracks. John closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off into a light sleep, helped along by the birdsong, his hand pleasantly warm where it was linked with Jim's. Somehow, this all still felt wrong, but he couldn't think of a place he'd rather be. Occasional memories of chemical aromas and gun powder would filter into his subconscious, a deep ache palpating his heart, but for the life of him, he couldn't place the memories of the smells.

Jim glanced over, smirking as he took in the relaxed, sleeping face of John Watson. Oh, everything was going oh so smoothly. In a matter of time, he would destroy Sherlock Holmes, make the man burn, crumble, and char. It would be so simple, and the lead up was the best part. Playing with the doctor, manipulating him, making him believe he had a happy life here, with Jim, oh the look on his face when the truth of everything would come crashing back would be so very delightful. Jim could hardly wait. Soon, very soon, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson would be nothing more than smoldering piles of ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Let me know please! I live off of reader comments!


	15. What It Is That We See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took longer than expected, and you can blame me entirely for it, well not really, blame my gallbladder. Recovering from that surgery took way more out of me than I thought it might! I am also working on another story that I will be posting either after this one, or at the same time as this one. I'm going to finish it before posting, which shouldn't take long because I want it to be only 10-15 chapters long. Anyways, without further ado, here we go! A bit more Sherlock in this chapter and some humor to lighten things up! Grizziesmom is amazing.

_Your brother is a bloody wanker arse-hole._ **–HG**

_Laxatives in the tea then?_ **–MH**

_I should just quit right now, no one would fault me!_ **–HG**

_No they would not Agent Graham, but then you would leave an assignment unfinished, which we both know is not something you would do. I do apologise. I will find him and talk with him._ **–MH**

_Talk to him, as if that has ever done much good in the past. You find him and then I will bloody well kill him._ **–HG**

_Good luck Agent Graham._ **–MH**

After reading Mycroft's last message Agent Graham snarled before carefully setting his phone on the sink next to where he sat on the loo. He placed his elbows on his thighs and buried his face into his hands. Bloody fucking laxatives in his tea. He was so going to kill Sherlock when he came back home. Better yet, he'd do it slowly, drawing it out until the detective, who Graham had been informed never begged, would beg for his life to end. Just imagining what he could do made Graham smile before a vicious cramp assailed his gut and he had to grit his teeth.

"Never working for a Holmes again," he growled, his fists clenching at his sides as another wave hit him. At least he was satisfied that this whole endeavor was taking place in Sherlock's flat.

Meanwhile on the other side of London a black car pulled up to the mouth of an alley. The tip of an expensive umbrella preceded the well-polished shoe of one, Mycroft Holmes. He waved his hand, staying his assistant.

"I won't be but a moment dear, keep George company," he requested before he began the trek towards the Belstaff clad figure bent over at the other end of the alley.

"Go away Mycroft, you are no help," Sherlock growled, moving away from the presence of his older brother.

Mycroft simply leaned into his umbrella, "I beg to differ brother dear, without my help, you never would have seen the tapes or read the files on James and Sebastian."

The tall red head studied his nails as if they held the secrets to the universe.

Sherlock sighed, pushing to stand up, though his back was still to Mycroft.

"You let him be taken in the first place. You could have stopped it, but you let it happen because you are using him to find Moriarty's base, the one place we've yet to dismantle. I am not stupid Mycroft."

The last few words were snarled in a show of coattails flying as Sherlock stalked off towards the other end of the alley where a loading dock led into the bowels of St. Bart's hospital.

Mycroft made a noncommittal noise.

"Then you also know that I would never have let it happen had there been any indication that John would be further injured or killed."

At this Sherlock whipped around to face his brother, his steps furious as he leaned into the older man's personal space, his opalescent eyes screaming in rage.

"You have no way of knowing. You are risking his life for nothing; you are risking my life, Mycroft. I only made you promise me one thing, one _bloody_ thing and you let it be taken. I can trust nothing that comes out of your mouth, which is why your agent is stuck at my flat. I am doing this alone because alone is all that I have…you guaranteed that when you let a psychopath take John away from me!"

Mycroft stood for a moment in stunned silence. He cleared his throat, straightening his waistcoat.

"Your life, Sherlock, is the thing that matters most to me. It always has. I would do, and have done, everything in my power to ensure your survival. I am doing all that I can to assist you, but it will be for naught unless you accept it. You are not alone. I should think that John's presence in your life would have made that clear enough some time ago."

Sherlock let a measured breath out through his nose before straightening up. His glare remained icy.

"John is the only person in my life I can rely on; that is why I will do whatever I can to get him back. You do not care what happens to him as long as you finally get Moriarty, you claim to care only for my life and my heart, but did you ever think that my life and my heart are not really my own anymore?"

Before Mycroft could even reply to that, the back door to Bart's opened, a startled Molly Hooper looking a bit baffled upon seeing Mycroft.

"Oh, hullo Mr. Holmes, I um…erm…"

Mycroft turned his gaze towards the mousy woman, his face falling into a friendly mask.

"Good day Miss Hooper," he nodded.

He watched as Sherlock stalked away from him and into the building, bending down for a moment to speak quietly with Molly before the woman turned and followed him, offering Mycroft a small wave before disappearing.

The man sighed, his eyes closing a moment to keep his emotions in check.

"I do know brother, trust me, I do know," he turned grimly back towards his waiting car.

He knew he had made a mistake, but he wouldn't let it go unsolved. He'd keep throwing his help at Sherlock until the man had no choice but to accept it. Anthea looked up from her PDA as he slid into the car.

"There is a tumbler of whiskey waiting back at your desk, the lights have been dimmed and everyone knows to not disturb you for thirty minutes."

"Thank you Anthea, that should be sufficient. Also, send Agent Graham a basket of tea and biscuits. I fear it might take more than that to soothe him, but we'll start there."

Mycroft removed his mobile and typed out a quick message before settling into his seat, remaining silent on the way back to his office.

DI Gregory Lestrade huffed when he noted the sender to the latest text on his mobile. He was in the midst of a double homicide that Sherlock refused to even look at while also trying to help the mad man locate John. Lestrade was concerned about his friend, but his job took priority much to his and the Holmes brothers' annoyance. He swiped his thumb over the screen to open the text.

_If you're not too terribly busy, I have a small favour to ask._ **–MH**

Lestrade snorted, there was no such thing as a small favour for Mycroft Holmes. He sighed, leaning back in his desk chair as he typed out a response.

_I will not be going back to Baskerville, or anywhere of the like. What is the favour?_ **–GL**

_Go 'round to Baker Street and check up on my agent. I fear he is in need of a sympathetic ear. Sherlock has been abusing him._ **–MH**

Greg sighed, running the palm of his hand over his face. It had only been a week since Sherlock's return, and Greg was still dealing with how he felt about it. He also was struggling with helping to locate John Watson, but with lack of evidence and witnesses, the case was slow. He thumbed on his phone again and typed out a quick message as he rose from his chair.

_You owe me a pint and/or dinner._ **–GL**

Knowing he wouldn't get a response until Mycroft was free to fulfill the debt, Greg left NSY, handing a few files over to a new inspector on his team, Kellan Bhone.

"Look those over again, my vision is getting blurry from all the times I've run through it," Greg stated when Bhone looked up at him.

"Uh, yeah, sure thing boss, I'll call you if I find anything new."

He swiveled around to his desk and opened the file folder. Greg merely grunted in response before finally leaving The Yard. He shrugged into his suit jacket before rounding the corner where he had his personal car parked. He pulled the keys from his trouser pocket to unlock his doors. He slid into the driver's seat, depositing his phone in the cup holder next to his thigh before pulling out into the light London traffic.

It didn't take him more than fifteen minutes to reach Baker Street. He jogged up the steps, using his knuckles to wrap against the door. He waited a few moments before opening the door, catching Mrs. Hudson as she stepped out of her flat. He grinned as the door clicked shut behind him.

"Afternoon Mrs. Hudson, how are you?"

The older woman grinned, relaxing into her door jamb at the sight of the DI.

"I'm not sure how much more this old heart of mine can take Detective Inspector. You're here for Sherlock?"

He nodded, smiling sympathetically at her confession, "No news this time, and I'm here to see to the agent Sherlock left behind this morning"

Mrs. Hudson made a tsking noise, shaking her head, "Oh that man, not back from the dead for more than a fortnight and he's already kicking up trouble, not that I mind if it brings John back home, but he should mind his manners."

Greg chuckled, nodding his agreement. He ran a hand wearily through his hair, glancing up the stairs at the sound of a toilet flushing.

"I'll go see what Sherlock's left behind. You have a good day Mrs. Hudson," he nodded to her, flashing a quick smile before hurrying up the stairs.

"You bring the good doctor home soon detective inspector. Between you and Sherlock, it shouldn't be much longer before he's back here," she gave him a look which held all of the trust and belief in her boys before shaking her head and going back into her flat.

Greg pressed his lips together, continuing his trek up the stairs. He sighed, knocking at the door before opening it.

"Hello? Agent Graham?" he called, stepping past the threshold. He heard some movement from the back of the flat near the loo.

"Yeah, detective inspector Lestrade?" a muffled voice called from the hall.

Greg looked up from the papers scattered in the sitting room, "Yeah, Mycroft said you might need a bit of help?"

What sounded like a bitten off curse answered Lestrade as he lowered himself onto the sofa. He spread his arms along the back, smirking when he heard the toilet flush again followed by the clinking of a belt. Lestrade rolled his head along the back of the sofa when he heard the door to the loo open. He smirked at the agent.

"Sherlock giving you a run for your money then?" he asked, a chuckle present in the undertones of his voice.

"You could say that. Bloody wanker put laxatives in my tea," Graham reported on the gush of a large breath as he collapsed into Sherlock's chair, having learned to leave John's chair well enough alone.

Lestrade chuckled, shaking his head, "Sounds like something he would do. He truly is a child in a man's body. How John put up with him is beyond me," Greg muttered, sighing gently as he took in the state of the flat.

Graham saw the DI looking over the mess Sherlock had made and pursed his lips, "The man is so disorganised, I have no clue how he can even think. The mess drives me bonkers!"

Lestrade nodded, completely understanding where the government agent was coming from, "John was a bit of a built in housekeeper. He picked up after the lanky git, made him mind his manners, and overall made dealing with Sherlock a little bit easier. We need to find him agent Graham, no matter the costs. Have you and Sherlock worked out any leads?"

Graham sobered at Lestrade's words, nodding in understanding at the mention of getting John back, "We haven't made much, Sherlock keeps pestering Mycroft for CCTV footage, but there is none. I don't know much more, but I did have a thought while in the loo…" Graham trailed off as he shuffled a few of the papers around and drew out a map.

Lestrade scooted forward, his brows furrowed in curiosity as the agent spread the map out, "I managed to work this out this morning, which I think is why I found myself trapped in the loo with Sherlock gone. I thought of Moriarty knocking out the CCTV cameras so that we couldn't trace his path, but then I thought about the negative space, like…where nothing is. Moriarty made sure the cameras weren't working on the route he took out of the city so I traced the line of non-functioning cameras the day Dr. Watson was taken. Now, I only got as far as an exit out of the city heading south, from there I have no clue where they headed."

Lestrade studied the map, nodding, "Wonder if Sherlock got all pissy because you thought of tracing the…erm…neg-downed cameras. He's probably checking into your theory right now," Lestrade stated, leaning back into the sofa again.

Graham shot him a look before shuffling a few more papers, "He's a dead man the next time I see him."

Lestrade raised a brow at the statement, "Looks like a murder I'll solve quickly then if he ever turns up and is actually dead," after the statement left his mouth Lestrade winced in bad taste.

Graham chuckled, getting to his feet, "Right then, even a mind as grand as Sherlock's can't get far on his own, so I'll put the kettle on to boil and wait for him to return. Will you stick around?"

Lestrade's eyes followed Graham as he walked from the sitting room into the kitchen.

"I'll stay here until the git gets back, but I can't stay much longer after that, there's a game on tonight and I mean to take some time to myself and watch it."

Graham chuckled as he flipped the kettle on, "Ah, I envy you detective inspector. Sherlock would throw the ultimate sulk if I turned on the telly for myself. He's extremely dedicated and focused on finding his old flatmate."

Lestrade nodded, despite the agent not being able to see him, "John Watson is a great man agent Graham, and I want him back almost as much as Sherlock. So I can assure you that Sherlock's dedication is of utmost importance until we find John."

Lestrade's voice held a note of finality, almost harshness as he defended Sherlock and his obsessive nature over the case of Dr. Watson. Graham snapped his mouth shut, his face falling back into seriousness as he entered the sitting room with two cups of tea. He placed one on the coffee table in front of Lestrade while resuming his spot in Sherlock's chair.

"Apologies detective inspector. I'm not used to cases being so personal to those involved. I usually work to reach an end. Emotions have nothing to do with it. Mr. Holmes has told us all, many times, that caring is not an advantage. Well detective inspector…Sherlock Holmes is proving just how much of an advantage it is to care about someone. We will find John, but not because of the man hours we put in, but because Sherlock Holmes will go to the ends of the earth to find him, and he will bloody well drag us along with him."

Lestrade raised his brows as he looked at the agent over the lip of his cuppa. He swallowed quickly, nodding.

"Moriarty may not have died before, but now, now that he's taken John…there is no way Sherlock will let the bastard walk. I think I'll be a bit indisposed when Sherlock corners Moriarty…I won't see a thing," Lestrade's grin curled on his lips as he watched the meaning of his words sink into the agent's head.

Graham smirked, nodding, "I'm also quite sure Mr. Holmes will be requiring my statement about the time Sherlock sets eyes on Mr. Moriarty…"

Lestrade grinned, feeling a sort of comradery beginning to form between himself and the agent, "Convenient how things usually seem to work out with the Holmes boys, yeah?"

Graham chuckled, nodding, "Odd how that works. Since Sherlock decided to skip off without me, mind coming along to my office? There are a few files I wanted to dig up and go through as well as do some more digging on Mr. Moriarty. I want to see if I can't find anything everyone else has missed…Sherlock included."

Lestrade finished the last dregs of his tea before placing it back in the saucer on the table. He whipped his palms against his thighs before rising to his feet, "Sounds good to me. The more we can find and learn on the evil bastard, the better. Give Sherlock a bit of time to gallivant on his own. He'll come back sooner or later. It takes him a while to accept help…he'll come around, may even like you a little bit," Lestrade chuckled as he pulled his jacket on again and followed the agent down the stairs.

"Well it can't hurt the matter if I manage to dig up something the great Sherlock Holmes might have missed," he added with a cheeky wink as he led Lestrade around the corner to where his car was parked.

"We'll be lucky to find anything he's missed, but there's no use in sitting around and waiting for something to smack you in the face," he replied, lowering himself into the passenger's seat.

"Here's to hope," Graham smirked as he hit the gas and sped into the London traffic surrounding Baker Street. The sun was just beginning to sink on the horizon. Another day had come to an end with no new clues as to the whereabouts of John Watson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments or kudos earn you a cookie!


	16. The Dreams We Become

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all so lovely, putting up with me and my random updating. I'm trying to make it regular, but I hit a rut in life and it's been a bit of a climb to get out, I'm almost out and writing this is just one more foothold to the top of the hole! I hope you enjoy! Grizziesmom is amazing and she also now has an account here on Ao3! Look her up!

The stillness of midnight was disturbed by the sound of a choked off gasp. The noise stopped almost as soon as it had begun swallowed in the darkness and pulled back into the maw from which it had come. The man whose mouth formed the noise trembled beneath the sheet on his bed, a bed he failed to recognise. His hands scrambled, their final destination unknown. His mind was blank, but his heart thundered in terrified panic.

Having had more than enough experience with nightmares, John squeezed his eyes shut and let his body calm down in the darkness he created. He listened to his breaths…in and out…too quick, too shallow. They needed to calm down, become slow, regular, and deeper. John knew all of this, but still caught in the last webs of his nightmare, he struggled to control it. He squeezed his eyes a bit tighter, reminding himself and his body that he was awake and in control. There existed a different darkness beyond his eyelids, a darkness he couldn't control, but this, the darkness he manifested was his and his body was his.

This is what he always had to tell himself, to reassure himself that he was in control. His nightmares, the world that tormented him beyond his control was not holding him any longer. He was the one in control now and his body had better damn well come to terms with it. It took a few minutes but his muscles finally relaxed and his breathing came out in one long whoosh before regular breaths expanded and contracted his lungs. Slowly, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, John's eyelids finally fluttered open.

It wasn't an inky black that greeted him, but a dull, muted dark. The light from the moon coming in through the large windows glowed off the walls. He sighed, his palm coming up to rub along his face, removing the last vestiges of the nightmare he'd. There wasn't much John remembered about it, but it wasn't an arid and hot desert like it usually was. This time it was a cool London street. There was a feeling of completely lost panic, his heart stopping in his chest, and then the agonizing wrench of it tearing itself in half. There was blood, a body, and a building. Other than that, nothing made sense to John and his head full of scrambled memories locked behind thick doors.

He wondered for a moment if his dreams—nightmares were these memories trying to escape. He'd heard of memories surfacing within your dreams, but the dis-jointed way in which it was happening left John wondering if they were actual memories or just his nightmares taking on a new form. He glanced around the unfamiliar room, taking a few, calm moments to remember where he was, why he was there, and who else was with him. It took a startlingly short amount of time for everything from the past few days to come back to him. He was married…to a man…and living in a rather quaint cottage somewhere in the countryside. It was still a bit hard to come to terms with the marriage, but he figured if Harry could do it, then it couldn't be that hard.

He sighed, looking down the line of his body to the large lump of blanket gathered over the cast on his leg. He wanted the bloody thing gone so that he might be able to walk through the garden and beyond. It had been a habit of John's since he was little. Things in his house weren't always sunshine and roses when he was growing up. To escape all the noise he'd climb out his window and just wander the streets. One night Harry had silently joined him. That was how they had formed the tenuous bond between them. John hated that Harry had replaced walking with drinking, and it was a battle he'd fight until the very bitter end.

Knowing sleep was now a far off dream, John glanced over at the blue glow of the alarm clock. It shined back, letting him know it was a little after 4AM. He groaned, his head falling back into the pillow. He ran his hand over his face once more, crusty bits of sleep falling from his eyes as he settled himself into the bed. His blue eyes flicked around the ceiling, tracing the shadows. The sound of crickets chirping was lulling him into a half sleep when he heard the gentle rapping against the door.

"John?" Jim's voice whispered.

John shifted some, turning his head to look towards the door. A gentle smile graced his lips as he lifted his head.

"Yeah, 'm here," he answered back.

It was a bit cute, he could admit to himself, to see Jim shift his weight unsurely before opening the door and stepping inside.

"Well obviously you're here, I just…I know your nightmares can be bad…I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright."

John smiled. Knowing that he wasn't alone to fight the nightmares that would come for him gave him an odd feeling of comfort. Aside from Harry silently walking next to him or sitting with him in the past, John hadn't had anyone to be there in the aftermath. John watched as Jim took another small step into the room. He scooted towards the middle of his bed, finding himself actually wanting Jim's company.

"Come sit?" he implored just before his mouth opened into a wide yawn.

Jim looked uncertain for a moment before he smiled and strode all the way across the room to slide into the spot John had made.

"So you did have a nightmare?"

John sighed, shifting slightly. Warmth spread up his leg from where it was in contact with Jim's before he nodded slowly.

"Yeah…it was…it was different though. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I felt so lost and just overcome with sadness. I was standing below a building…St. Bart's I think and just looking up…do you know why I might be dreaming that?"

Jim was glad for the darkness that hid the scowl that took over his face at the admission. Jim didn't think he'd have to deal with emerging memories so soon, but he was a changeable man and plans could be rearranged. Remembering that John was next to him, still at a loss as to what truly happened in his life, Jim reached over, his palm coming to rest along the top of John's thigh.

"I haven't the faintest. There was a period of time where I worked in the IT department at Bart's when we met, but there should be no reason to have nightmares about it," he injected a bit of comical mirth into the final bit of his sentence, hoping to put John off the path his mind was taking.

John chuckled.

"I suppose the meeting couldn't have been that bad given I married you," he teased, leaning into Jim.

Jim grinned, the intent behind it more malicious under the guise of darkness.

"You did marry me and we'll get through this. After all it is 'til death do us part," he muttered, turning his head into John and pressing a faint kiss to his temple.

John sighed, his eyelids actually beginning to grow a bit heavier as the comfort of Jim's presence coaxed sleep back to him. He turned slightly, snuggling a bit more into Jim to draw strength from him.

"You don't have to stay with me, 'm be alright now."

Jim huffed, wiggling a bit to settle himself firmly next to John.

"Just sleep Johnny boy. Everything will be alright," he murmured, turning his head to catch the glint of John's blue eyes.

John smiled sleepily in response, nodding his head, "Alright, alright, I'll try," he conceded, humming contentedly. His head nestled into the safety of the pillows once more before his lids finally closed.

* * *

Four thirty AM was a pocket of silence. Sherlock was sat upon his duvet, knees bent as he arranged the CCTV photos again. The soft snores of agent Graham drifted under Sherlock's door. The agent had fallen asleep some hours ago, sleep coming for him in the midst of tracing possible routes Moriarty had taken from the city. Sherlock hadn't bothered to look the map over. Instead, he ignored the presence of Graham altogether, still hoping it would make the man disappear. So far everything had been useless, pointing them in a direction where infinite possibilities presented themselves.

Nearing five AM Sherlock's mobile chimed with a new a new message. He wouldn't have paid it mind while caught up in his search for John, but the number coming up blocked made him reach for it. He swiped his thumb across the screen, bringing the message to life. His quick silver eyes swept across the screen, his brows furrowing.

_Your pet feels so good pressed up against me. It's a shame you threw him away so carelessly._ _**–JM** _

A snarl ripped its way from Sherlock's mouth. He wanted so badly to chuck his mobile across the room and feel the satisfaction wash over him while he watched the plastic device shatter into pieces. He forbid him mind from picturing any part of John _pressed up against_ any part of Jim Moriarty. Reeling in the unfamiliar emotions Sherlock slipped to the end of his bed and got to his feet. The blue dressing grown swished about his ankles as he moved towards his closet, pulling out a white shirt and black trousers to dress himself. He dressed quickly and strode into the sitting room. The excitement built in Sherlock's stomach as he realised Moriarty had made the mistake he'd been waiting for. He had known Moriarty's need to gloat concerning John would be the downfall of his nemesis

"You have five minutes to be presentable and join me. You might be useful," Sherlock rumbled as he passed the sleeping agent.

It actually surprised Sherlock, not that he would admit or show it, when Graham gave a sort of snorted huff and sat up. The agent was ruffled, his hair pointing in disarray over his head. A large yawn made the hinges of his jaw creak so loud, Sherlock could hear it across the room. He blinked bleary eyes, a moment of confusion washing over him before remembering where he was and what it was he was working on.

"What are we doing?" he asked, slowly rising to his feet, his back cracking back into place from its slumped position on the sofa.

"Going to Mycroft. Maybe he will take you back," Sherlock stated moving about in the kitchen.

Four minutes later Graham stepped out of the bathroom, nearly knocking Sherlock over in his haste. He pulled up quick, blinking at the detective.

"So, what are we going to see Mycroft for? Are you going to demand he take me back, again?"

Sherlock frowned before turning away, "Unfortunately he has made it v _ery_ clear that you will be at my side for the duration of this case, which will hopefully not be for much longer. Now let's go."

Graham sighed, snagging his jacket from the back of the couch as he passed.

"I hope so," he muttered, shrugging into the jacket before following Sherlock's flourish down the stairs and into a cab.

"So what's going on, what happened now that would make you deign to ask big brother for his help?"

Sherlock looked up from the glow of his phone, giving Graham a sharp look of almost disgust, "Because he can help and when it is John's life at stake I will go to any lengths to get him back."

Graham had the wherewithal to actually look a bit cowed. He nodded, leaning back in his seat.

"Apologies, just been a long few days," he sighed, closing his eyes to wait out the ride to Mycroft's office.

Not twenty minutes later and the cab had stopped in front of a sleek looking building seemingly made of glass. Agent Graham exited the cab and stood staring up at the office, wishing he could be back up there or out on a different case. He knew it would be a huge challenge to work with Sherlock, but as the order had come directly from his superior he had no way out. To say the man was a nightmare would be a severe understatement.

"You have seen this building a million times. There is nothing interesting about it this time around," Sherlock drawled with boredom as he bypassed the agent.

Sherlock brushed past security and the guards knowingly let him pass. As he stood near the bank of elevators, he huffed in frustration as Agent Graham dutifully stopped at each checkpoint.

"So, are you going to tell me what this is all about, or is it some sort of secret plot?" Graham asked as he slid inside the lift car just before the doors closed completely.

Sherlock sighed, pocketing his mobile, "No. Moriarty sent me a message this morning. I lack the technology at the flat to trace a blocked number, or rather, the blocked number that Moriarty would use. Mycroft on the other hand has the means. We trace the message back to its originating mobile tower and we know where to start searching. It is most likely the only clue we will get. Moriarty boasted, and slipped up. His biggest downfall will be his showmanship. He simply cannot do something without showing off."

"Well that's good for us then."

Sherlock huffed, his lips turning into a cruel half smile, "Very good for us, though I would have found him despite his message. He just raised my chances exponentially."

Graham nodded, "Right, well, let's get on with it then."

He nodded towards the doors as the lift stopped. Sherlock gave him a look before stepping out past Anthea and right into Mycroft's office.

The elder Holmes looked up from various papers on his desk, his fingers interlocking over the top of them, "And to what do I owe this particular pleasure? Have you made progress?"

Sherlock glared, tossing his phone onto the desk, the incriminating text open, "Trace it, now."

Mycroft blinked. He was about to open his mouth when he caught the look in Sherlock's eyes. He nodded instead, taking the phone just as Anthea entered. He held up the mobile so that his assistant could take it.

"It will take a few minutes. Please have a seat. I do have a few things to discuss with you both."

He indicated the chairs before his desk. Graham sat while Sherlock elected to remain standing. Anthea appeared with a tea service and sat on the edge of the desk before disappearing again. Sighing in agitation at the raised brows, Sherlock finally plopped into the chair.

"Do hurry. We haven't all day to listen to your babble," he grumbled, grabbing the tea if only to have something to focus on other than his brother.

"Right then, we need to discuss extraction options for when we find Dr. Watson."

Sherlock frowned, hunching his shoulders almost like a sulking child,

"Fine, if we must," he drawled, his tone bored. The staccato his fingers beat against the arm rest told a different story.

* * *

Morning found John well rested with a warm weight pressed against his back. He hummed, smiling to himself, and mumbled a few incoherent syllables before turning to face his bed partner. He blinked, startled to see a dark haired man. He closed his eyes for a moment and everything came rushing back to him like a sort of tidal wave. He lifted a hand to wipe over his face.

"Mmm, go back to sleep," the man muttered, voice rough with sleep. He shifted closer to John, his arm coming up to wrap around John's waist.

John chuckled, bending his head, his smile actually unbidden this time as he smoothed his hand along Jim's arm, "And here I was thinking my lovely husband would dote on me, possibly make me a proper fry up?"

Jim burrowed his head deeper into the pillow, his arm tightening around John, "'m still tired."

John chuckled, his hand skimming up Jim's arm to playfully pinch his elbow.

"Oi, none of that, now get your arse up and cook for me, I will play my injured card if I must," John teased merrily, a feeling of contentment actually settling over him.

Jim heaved a sigh into his pillow before lifting his head, his hair mussed and sticking straight up from his forehead. He frowned sleepily at John who only beamed back at him from where he lay.

"You are an evil man John Moriarty…truly evil," he huffed before dipping his head for a kiss, only to pull up short, remembering that John wasn't fully accepting of his married role.

John grinned, his hand smoothing back up Jim's arm to cup his neck, he traced his thumb along his hairline.

"I want to be back to normal again and not be so afraid of who I really am," John breathed quietly before lifting his head to press his lips against Jim's.

The other man gave a soft sigh-cum-groan at the sudden contact. He moved his own palm up John's side, curled it further around him possessively. He didn't ask for much from the kiss, but reveled in the pressure of dried lips. Jim pulled back, a small smile curling his lips as he looked down at John.

"That was a _proper_ fry up you wanted?" he asked, his voice a light teasing lilt with the hint of a Scottish accent.

"If you would be so inclined," John teased back, chuckling as he pushed himself up gently to sit propped against his pillows.

Jim grinned, nodding as he rolled away.

"Right then, just rest and I'll come for you when it's ready," he murmured, leaning in to brush some stray golden locks from John's forehead and pressing a light kiss to the still sleep-warmed skin.

"Sounds good luv," John murmured, grinning as he allowed himself to melt back into his pillows, the curly haired man from his dreams a mere echo lost now in the valleys of his wakeful mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, the next few chapters will almost fully focus on Jim and John, with possible cameos by Sherlock and his team!


	17. Walk One Foot in Front of the Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I have a very good reason why this is so late, and that is because I really buckled down and wrote a ton of new chapters and started new fics before posting this one so that I can be on a more regular schedule. Your comments and bribes will help me post a lot faster! Oh, and I bought a house, so that was kind of a big deal. Grizziesmom will always be the best beta ever!

The morning of the fifth day John spent with Jim found him sitting in the garden. He'd risen only minutes before the sun, and not remembering the last time he could experience a true sun rise, he'd hobbled out into the garden. He settled himself into a cushioned chair, his leg propped up on a low table to ease the ache thrumming along his bones. He let his shoulders melt back into the plush cushion as he blinked out at the horizon. His cerulean gaze skipped along the dew covered plants, a light smile pulling at his lips. He still couldn't fathom his hands creating the gorgeous, plush garden that surrounded him. He was still loathe to admit it was a guilty pleasure of his, a little niche he'd formed for himself after coming home from the army. He sighed, content in the moment, his eyes beginning to sparkle as the first rays of the sun began to crawl over the horizon.

The rays soon started to bathe John, washing away the lingering webs of crippling sadness clinging to his bones. He'd been plagued, yet again, by The Dream. He still could make no connection to the happenings of his subconscious to what Jim had told him of his real life. He wanted to look into what the dream might mean, but at Jim's insistence that it'd quit soon enough, he'd kept it bottled. Now, when Jim would ask about his nightmares, he'd dig out the memories of sand, sun, blood, cries, severed limbs, and broken hope to placate Jim's inquisition. He didn't want to make the man worry more for him than he already was, but John had no control over the avenues his sleeping mind would take. There was something too, telling John to keep from Jim the fact that a small, hardly there, trickle of memories was coming back to him.

John remembered more of his life after staying with Harry and Clara. It didn't differ much from what Jim had written to him, but some it felt a bit altered. John couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was that made him think Jim had fabricated what was in his letters, but with the emerging memories, what Jim had told him didn't seem to fit. John shook the feeling off, however, chalking it up to time infringing on what someone could fully remember. Besides, John was the one who was suffering memory loss; he didn't quite think he was the most reliable well of information. Not remembering much of his past was an annoying hindrance, but at the same time John had a future, and despite the jumbled memories, he wanted to focus on that.

He spent another half hour in the garden, collecting his thoughts before he reached for his crutch. He remembered his hated cane, and swore, after his leg was healed, that he'd never rely on another stick to help him stand or walk. He pulled himself from the chair, one last look at the awakening flowers, before limping back into the cottage. He gently closed the door to the patio before making his way towards the kitchen. He was craving some toast and jam, so he set to making some quietly. He had just depressed the lever for the toast when he heard someone yawn behind him. He turned, smiling, to see a sleep tousled Jim.

"Good morning," he greeted, grinning, moving to the stove to click on the burner for tea.

Jim grunted in reply, slipping onto a stool at the counter.

"Tea? Toast?" John asked as he moved to retrieve the toast that had just popped up.

"A bit of both please, I'm heading into town for some business today," Jim muttered, his voice still rough with sleep.

John grinned, nodding, "It'll be nice to do something normal rather than look after me for a change," he teased, slipping a few more slices of bread into the toaster.

Jim grunted, the corners of his lips turning up into a ghost of a smile. "I'd much rather be here, less demanding, though it can be a bit boring," he confessed, accepting the mug of steaming tea John slipped to him.

John chuckled, "I don't blame you, I'm going crazy myself," he said with a wink.

Jim tipped his head in thought, the cup of tea resting against his lips, "Maybe in a few days we can see about going into town for an hour or so, get you a change of scenery," he suggested before tipping a small bit of the contents of the cup into his mouth.

John smiled at that, his teeth crunching down into the piece of toast he'd made up while Jim was talking.

"That sounds amazing; I can't wait to get out of confined spaces. I've had enough for a while I should think," John muttered with a chuckle, wiping the back of his hand across his lips.

Jim nodded, smiling lightly, "I'd rather not have you go barking mad from being cooped up. Having you like this is more than I thought I'd have after you woke up. I'll do anything to get the real you back to me fully, as you should be, and if a short walk in town does the trick, well who am I do deny it."

John grinned, edging along the counter so that he could slip onto the high stool next to Jim.

"Well, if I do go mad I'll just drag you along with me," he teased back, using his elbow to nudge Jim's breakfast closer.

Jim took the hint with an exaggerated eye roll. He picked up the toast, eating it while John pulled the newspaper across the counter to read it. Jim watched the other man, trying to see if he could actually see a tell of John's blacked out memories returning. There were times throughout the day that Jim would question his plan of finally getting to Sherlock. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it to draw it all out. However, the thought of what he could do to the detective when the end finally came spurred him on more than any murder could. He continued to eat and drink in silence next to John before making a show of looking at his watch. He set his cup down and scooted back off his stool. He made a move to kiss John's temple, but pulled up short.

"Sorry…uhm, I've got to go now before I'm late and they decide to fire me…feel free as usual to anything in the cottage. Call if you need anything!" Jim called as he hurried from the room.

John looked up, blinking, catching the aborted move to place a kiss against his head. He frowned, wondering if his husband would ever feel comfortable being affectionate with him after what happened to him.

"I'll see you at dinner time then," he called just before the sound of the front door closing reached his ears.

John sighed once more and set about slowly straightening out the kitchen. He found the small chore relaxing; it felt like something he used to do all the time. His limbs seemed to move automatically without him even really giving the task much thought. He smirked to himself as he set the last dish in the rack to dry. No wonder he hadn't seen a maid about, John did all the cleaning it seemed. It wasn't such a bad job, but in his current situation he found the thought of going around the cottage and tidying up a bit too taxing.

Instead he made his way into Jim's bedroom, the one he assumed they had shared, and scanned the floor to ceiling bookshelf. There were a few dry titles, textbooks, journals, and computer coding tomes. After a few minutes of searching John found an old mystery novel. He pulled it from the shelf and went into the sitting room where the light from the garden washed over him. He lowered himself into a plush armchair and opened the book, settling in to read for a few hours.

" _221B Baker Street," a deep baritone nearly purred before a dark set of curls vanished behind a black barrier._

_John stood in the middle of a lab, confused. He looked around. The lab table was the only solid piece of furniture within the room. Everything else was black and a bit foggy at the edges. He furrowed his brows in confusion._

" _What…who…what did you say?" he called._

_His hand gripped the handle of his cane tighter as he made to step forward._

_Just as his body pitched ahead, the room he was in began to spin. As the scene began to settle John was standing on a sidewalk. He jumped, his heart racing as he looked around. There was nothing happening. No traffic, no people, no noise at all. He tipped his head back, eyes squinting against the sun. He was looking up to the roof of St. Bart's. A sudden wave of panic and nausea washed over him. He had no idea why he felt like the center to his very world was about to implode, but then he saw something. There was a figure in a long, dark coat. He couldn't see the face, but the man's arm was stretched out towards John, as if he wanted to take hold of John for some reason. John flinched at a sudden cool, wetness on his cheeks. He reached with shaking fingers to find tears slipping down his face. Suddenly his heart gave a great, painful burst as the figure stepped off the edge. A great pain shot through John's ribs, his knees giving out as he fell to the pavement. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the falling man._

Just as the body hit the pavement, John gave a great gasp, jerking himself awake. He had shot up in the chair he'd dozed off in, his eyes blinking. He reached up to rub the lingering sleep from his eyes, only to be surprised by the wetness on his cheeks. He took his fingers away, studying them. He had no clue why such a dream would affect him so, or why he'd dream of a figure jumping from the roof of t. Bart's. Suddenly the name Sherlock pulsed in his head. He clenched his eyes shut again before levering himself out of his chair. He hobbled a little to reach his crutch before making way towards the kitchen.

John had no idea when Jim would be home, but he figured that getting a jump on something for dinner wouldn't go amiss. He was still quite unfamiliar with the small house, something he'd figure out in his current down time, so it took him a few long minutes to gather together a few supplies and dishes to begin a simple salad. John wasn't an amazing cook, but after leaving Harry's he'd had to fend for himself somehow. He couldn't afford takeaway, certainly not as much as he ate when he had lived with-and then the thought stopped. John had no idea where he might have been going with the thought, but he knew Jim wasn't part of it. He sighed, again cursing the lost memories his mind taunted him with constantly.

It was a few hours later when John, lost in the mechanics of searing chicken breasts with chopped vegetables, failed to notice the front door opening. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his lower back did he realize he wasn't alone. The sudden, and unexpected contact made him jump, cursing as pain radiated through his casted leg.

"Jesus Christ, don't sneak up on me like that Sh—" John cut himself off when he saw it was just James.

He smiled sheepishly, wiping his hands on the towel he snatched from the counter near the stove, "Sorry Jim, you just startled me there a bit. Welcome home."

Jim cocked his head, eyes narrowed, curious as to what John was about to say, but smothered the look in a large, forced smile, "I don't think you're supposed to be doing such strenuous things like cooking," he muttered, pursing his lips.

John rolled his eyes, "I can't sit still any longer. I'll go crazy if all I'm allowed to do all day is just sit around."

Jim chuckled; moving to take the spot John was occupying and stirring the contents of the pan, "Doctors really do make the worst patients," he chided before setting the spoon down.

John shot him a look before hobbling back to retrieve his crutch leaning against the counter, "I'd like to see how you'd cope with a broken leg," he muttered on his way to one of the stools at the counter.

Jim turned towards him, chuckling, "Touché doctor, but sit down now and I'll finish dinner then we can figure out what to do with you."

John smirked, "How was your day then?"

Jim shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, "It was fine, nothing I'm not used to. Same old, same old. How about you? Anything exciting happen around here?" he asked, turning to look at John with a raised brow.

John shrugged as well, shaking his head, "Nothing exciting happened and I'm willing to bet that nothing exciting will ever happen to me here. We're in the middle of the country, nothing ever happens out here."

Jim grinned, "Exactly why we're out here. We're in the middle of nowhere with all kinds of open space and yet, it's like no one even knows we're here."

John cocked his head, humming in response, "It is nice to get away from the city, but I miss London. Please tell me we are going back soon."

Something flashed in Jim's eyes before a curving smile could hide, "Not too soon, I don't want to tempt you with the big city and have you going out and injuring yourself all over again."

John sighed, deflating a little into the stool, "Right, because the cabs and crowds are great incentives to get out and bustle along with them."

Jim ignored the comment and instead turned to the fridge where he pulled out a bottle of wine, "We'll go home in a few more weeks. My job in town isn't quite finished yet," he offered by way of an excuse.

John didn't feel like getting into it so soon since his husband had arrived home so he ignored it and instead started up some small talk while Jim finished with the dinner John had started.

An hour and a half later John was sat on the sofa, glass of wine still cradled in his hand. He was leaning against the couch arm, his leg faintly throbbing, making him regret his decided upon activities from earlier in the day. Jim stocked a few logs in the fireplace and settled down next to John. Things between the pair still felt a bit odd to John, but he forced himself to relax with the other man. He owed it to Jim to try and find the link that they shared before the accident, which brought John's train of thought to his dream from earlier in the afternoon. He sipped slowly at his wine, wondering how to word the topic he wanted to bring up.

Jim turned towards John, a brow raised inquisitively, "What is it you want to know?"

John blinked, almost spluttering into his glass, "Er…I'm not sure how to really ask you about…well…about that Sherlock fellow you wrote about."

Jim blinked slowly, keeping a tight rein on the sudden turmoil that name churned up in him. He swallowed down the anger before plastering a small smile onto his face.

"That's a rather…why do you bring him up?"

John shrugged, turning his gaze towards the orange and yellow flames licking up into the chimney, "Because he was your biggest enemy, threatened me, and…and I think I'm beginning to dream about him."

Jim fought the urge to close his hands around John's neck, knowing that who Sherlock truly was hadn't come back to John.

"He's not a topic I enjoy talking about Johnny. He was a dark spot in our past and we no longer have to worry about him. I would rather we not speak about him."

Jim's voice was icier than he'd intended, and he didn't miss the way John flinched at the tone.

John moved a little further away from Jim, knowing he'd struck a chord, "I…I'm sorry. I didn't realise it'd still be a sore subject. I was just trying to understand…and hoping that if we could talk about it a little bit then maybe…maybe I could start to remember."

Jim pulled out his mobile and tapped out a quick text before turning towards John, fixing a sad smile on his face.

"I promise we can talk about anything else you might question but…but let's just leave that subject buried in the past where it ought to stay. There is so much more to our lives that means so much more to me. This is like a chance to start over, but with only all the good parts."

John let the words roll around in his head for a moment before shifting closer to Jim again. He sighed, letting the tension uncoil from his muscles. He let his head drop onto Jim's shoulder.

"Alright, yeah…that, that sounds fair," he let out a soft breath, smiling as he let his eyes drop closed.

Jim grinned, the corners of his mouth curled as he turned and pressed a kiss into John's hair.

"That's right Johnny boy, we've got a whole new future ahead of us and it doesn't have room for Sherlock Holmes in it."

Verging on the edge of slumber, John missed the definite edge of malice to Jim's tone, only humming in response as he nuzzled into the warmth of the man next to him. Jim grinned, the fire licking in his dark gaze. He reached over, curling his fingers with John's. He laid his own head atop the doctor's. He shifted a little when he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it from his pocket and grinned at the words displayed there.

_Deployed the men. Sherlock Holmes will be dealt with. When you give the word, John will be taken care of next. –_ _**SM** _


	18. Coming Back To Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the end! Grizziesmom is the bestest ever! Speeding things up a bit!

It took a while for John to really settle into the small cottage with his husband. They had begun to sleep in the same bed shortly after the first night, and now John found himself missing the added warmth when Jim didn't make it to bed due to work. They had talked endlessly about the times before John's injury, and slowly John started to experience cracks in his locked away memories. They were still very few and far between, but he was beginning to truly feel like himself.

But it wasn't without complications either. The little snippets of memory that John was getting back didn't fit with the things Jim was telling him, or had told him in the letters. John had kept the letters in their box under the bed. He occasionally dug them out to read them over and try to match up the snippets with what was written, but the more he did it, the more he began to question the whole situation.

John was left alone, as was the usual routine, but this time he decided to put the time to good use. It was a little after 11AM when he watched Jim be driven away from their home. He gave a quick wave, leaning against his crutch before turning to go into the kitchen. He had the rest of the day to do as he pleased, so he decided to actually be productive. His dreams had been plagued by a man with dark, curly hair. John knew that it had to be Sherlock, but he needed to know what sort of connection Sherlock and he shared. He had a feeling it went deeper than Sherlock just being some sort of criminal mastermind.

The cottage had no technology save for Jim's laptop, which he never left unattended. John remembered he had created a blog, and he'd asked Jim to use the computer to look it over, but Jim always managed to steer him away and change the topic. John never questioned it until the dreams began to come more frequently. No matter how long John held onto the tendrils of his dreams, he could never see Sherlock's face. Well, John was done feeling like a lost puppy. He wanted answers, and if Jim was just going to continue to dodge his questions, he'd take the matter into his own hands and find what he needed.

There was a page of numbers in the kitchen that Jim had left him, one was for a driver. John wasn't an idiot, he knew the driver would be under strict instructions as to where John was allowed or not allowed to go. He picked up the phone and then used the telephone directory to look up the number of a random cab service. It actually took a few calls before a cab agreed to come out to where he was and pick him up. After procuring the ride John hobbled back to the room he now shared with Jim and grabbed the box of letters.

Once John heard the cab sound its arrival he grabbed his crutches and made his way towards the door. He grabbed a set of keys from a dish near the door before leaving. He then made his way into the cab, unaware he was being watched. He had no real idea where the best place to go would be, so he asked the driver to take him to the closest library. John settled in for the ride, still unaware that a black town car was following not far behind him.

Sebastian wasn't one to get bored easily. He'd fought off the stagnant emotion long ago when it proved to be counterproductive to his chosen line of work. What he did depended solely on his ability to be patient. Losing focus while on a job always ended up in a failure, so Sebastian did not do bored, but that never stopped the feeling from nipping at his heels. He knew though, that if he watched John long enough something would happen and it had finally paid off. He knew, just as well as Jim and the handful of operatives still in his employ, that it truly was only a matter of time before John would remember the truth. He grabbed his mobile, typing out a quick message. As soon as he had hit the send button a car was pulling up to the drive from the house.

He didn't send a message to Jim right away, he knew the man would make him stand down, but Moran was curious to see what the little doctor was up to. It was obvious he was on some sort of mission and going to certain lengths to hide it from Jim, but Moran wanted to know exactly what it was before getting Jim involved. Moran loved his job, but he hated taking unnecessary risks, and Jim had long ago made it very clear that should any part of his operation be compromised because they were too impatient, well their services would no longer be required. Sebastian curled his fingers against his thigh, watching the car ahead of them actually leave the small, country town.

John wasn't too surprised when the cab opted to leave the small village and head towards the nearest, likely larger city or town, but it did concern him a little. He felt like he had eyes on him no matter where he went, and as soon as the cab had pulled out onto a more urban road, the prickly feeling at the back of his neck grew. He swallowed the lump in his throat, curling his fingers into a tight fist as he calmed himself down. He was being irrational, he figured. It had been ages since he'd gone out, and the last time he'd done so had ended up with him in hospital.

John, however, was brought back into reality when he felt the cab jolt to a stop. He rubbed his fingertips over his forehead before straightening up. He needed to get himself under control, and getting out was a step in the right direction. He was, however, very startled to see they were in Bath. He looked at the meter and cursed under his breath. Of course the driver would take John for everything he was.

"Ta mate, did we really need to come to Bath?"

The driver turned to give him a look, "You said library, I got you to a library," he muttered.

John narrowed his gaze, "I said close—you know what, never mind, here, and that tip is for keeping you here for an hour," he muttered under his breath as he flicked a wad of notes into the driver's lap.

John was glad Jim seemed to be generous with his money otherwise John would be shite out of luck. He tossed the driver another glare before turning away with his crutches and making his way towards the rather impressive looking library. He furrowed his brows. Of course when he tried to do something it'd somehow come back to bite him in the arse, just like his failed gift giving to Sherlock on his birthday years ago.

John stopped dead at the sudden, unbidden thought. He clutched his crutch harder, wondering what the hell that was all about. He squeezed his eyes shut, the beginning of a headache starting to thump behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh hell, Watson, get it together," he muttered to himself before continuing forward.

Once inside John was even more overwhelmed. He stood in the door, looking around and suddenly very lost. If he had any sense left he'd turn on his heel now and run. There was too much to take in. He felt the palms of his hands begin to sweat. There was no way he'd be able to find anything.

"Excuse me sir, can I help you?" a pretty blonde woman asked, smiling brightly at him.

John startled, the voice pulling him from his thoughts. He gave her an unsure smile in response.

"Uhm, I'm here to look up a few things. Can you show me to your computers?"

The woman smiled sympathetically at him, most likely used to such people coming through the doors.

"Of course, just follow me. We do have an hour time limit on them, but if you see that no one is waiting for you to get off you may continue to browse."

John nodded along, hobbling behind her as they passed by row after row of books all held on some of the tallest shelves he'd ever seen.

"Right, I don't think I'll be more than an hour," he assured her, smiling warmly.

"Here we are, if you need me or any other assistance please don't hesitate to find me or anyone else at the desk right over there," she said, pointing to a large desk where quite a number of people were queued up with stacks of books, papers, bags, and other items.

"Right, thanks," he said, smiling once more before carefully lowering himself into the chair.

He looked around him at the others using the computers and he suddenly felt very out of place. The people surrounding him were younger, uni students all with evidence of stress lining their faces as they hurried to complete assignments or study for an upcoming exam.

Just as John was signing into the computer he heard a flurry of movement to his right. Curious, he looked up, surprised to see a young girl staring openly at him, her eyes twinkling oddly.

"Oh my god," she muttered, her voice thick with an Irish accent.

John looked around him, wondering who she could possibly be talking about.

"Oh my god it is you!" she said, her voice getting a bit louder with her excitement.

Now John was feeling very uncomfortable, "Uhm, can I help you?" he asked.

The girl practically squealed when John had spoken to her, "I never thought I'd see you in real life! I am such a huge fan of your blog…wait, oh shit, oh no, I'm so sorry!"

John was completely startled at her excitement suddenly turning to something like sympathy.

"I…uhm…I'm sorry I don't follow," he tried, speaking slowly.

The girl only shot him a sad smile, "I know it's been tough since he...well…he did the thing, but you really should start writing again, you've had a ton of support from all kinds of people. We're still rather shocked that Sherlock would do such a thing to you, but we're all here for you." The girl had gathered all her things while speaking with John and was now hurrying away, still going on about John.

It took John a good few minutes to get over the shock of what had just happened, and even then he had no bloody clue. He shook it off, more determined now to look up his blog. He couldn't quite remember what the name of it was, so he googled himself. He was, once again, rather surprised at what popped up when the page loaded.

"Christ," he muttered as he looked at a few photos of himself with a man who had a riotous mess of dark curls atop his head.

"I think you're done for the day mate," a deep voice resonated from behind John.

John stiffened, turning slowly to find Sebastian Moran standing just behind him.

"Sebastian," he uttered, tipping his head back slowly to look up at the imposing man.

"Get up, we're going home," he ordered, the bite in his voice enough to make the students around John cringe.

John, however, was a soldier. He squared his shoulders.

"No, I've finally got the chance to see what my life was and you won't take that away from me," he growled low in his throat.

Sebastian's eyes gleamed, "Johnny, your life has already been taken away. Now, I suggest you get up and follow me."

John narrowed his eyes, glancing at the computer screen again and noting the link that appeared second on the page was for his blog. He turned back to Sebastian.

"No," he stated steely.

Sebastian scowled, stepping forward and clamping a hand onto John's shoulder, "I will carry you out of here if I must and do not dare to think I won't," he growled, his fingers digging into John's bad shoulder.

The doctor ground his teeth against the pain. There was little else he could do without making a scene. He nodded his assent, breathing heavily once Sebastian let go of his arm and stepped back. John glanced at the photos again, the pounding behind his eyes starting to take on a more painful effect. He hissed, bringing his finger up to pinch the bridge of his nose, hunching over.

"Christ," he groaned, the pounding started to become more incessant.

Sebastian frowned. This was not what he was expecting when he'd come into to confront the Army doctor.

"Get up, we're leaving," he hissed, the hairs along his arms beginning to stand on end as more attention was being brought to them.

"Fuck, Seb, my head," John groaned, his face suddenly going completely pale.

Seb cursed under his breath, stooping down to curl his arm around John's waist and hoist him onto his good foot. Seb grabbed the crutches with his other arm and hobbled awkwardly through the library with John leaning on him. He glared at anyone who tried to interfere, growling low under his breath about how his entire plan had gone to pieces.

He got the army doctor into the car idling at the kerb and shot a text off to Jim. He sighed, running his fingers through his feathery blonde hair. Sometimes plans just seemed to go balls up, and Seb was accustomed to improvising when the time called for it, but that still usually ended up in someone dying.

He was just churning over all sorts of scenarios in his head when his phone rang. That was never a good sign. Resigned to getting his head bit off, Seb answered his call.

"Boss?"

"Tell me that it's not true, tell me you did not let John get the information I have been hiding from him."

Seb cleared his throat, shifting, "Well I'm not sure how much he knows. When I found him all he had open was the search page after typing in his name. There were a few photos of him and Sherlock of course, and then when I confronted him, he nearly collapsed complaining about his head. Think he needs a hospital?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, "Bring him home. I'll meet you there. It seems the plans have progressed after all."

Seb didn't have a chance to respond when the line went dead. He sighed, pocketing his phone. He looked over at the man laid out on the seat next to him, groans of pain coming from his lips as he shifted and moved trying to get comfortable.

"Why did you have to go looking," he muttered, settling in for the ride back to the cottage.

John could only groan in response, the feeling in his head nearly bringing tears to his eyes. It felt like someone was sawing against his skull and picking out small bits of his brain. He tried to curl in on himself but the confined space in the back of the car prevented him from doing so. He couldn't even bring himself to worry what might happen once they got home to Jim.

Time seemed to crawl by while John suffered in his own private hell. He didn't dare speak his piece. Not only was the pain unbearable, but he knew it'd make no difference. He'd just dug his grave and now his husband was going to see that he lie in it. He barely even registered the car pulling up to a stop once it'd reached the cottage again, not until the door was pulled open and the weakening rays of sun washed over him. He whimpered, the pain pounding again with renewed effect.

"Pull yourself together, Watson," Sebastian growled, pulling at John's arm, forcing the man to sit up.

John's stomach roiled at the movement. He fought back the urge to be sick all over Sebastian's shoes, but just barely. He was dragged from the car and into the small cottage. His vision swam; the edges a dull grey as his mind attempted to pull him under, his body starting to lose the fight against the pain in his head.

"Well, set him down before he's sick," a cold voice urged.

John could only groan in response, wincing when he was dropped onto the couch. He heard footsteps coming and going from the room a few different times before a clink pierced the fog.

"Here, take this, don't worry, it's only paracetamol, for now," the voice urged.

John couldn't even lift himself up to drink and swallow the pill. He felt a pair of hands lift at his shoulders. He then felt a cool glass being pressed against his palm. He then felt a pill being pressed against his lips. At the moment, he didn't even care what it was, but swallowed it. He lifted the glass with a shaky hand to down a pull of cool water. The glass was soon taken from him and he was lowered back to the sofa.

"Oh Johnny, I really wish you hadn't decided to get curious today. I was so looking forward to some more time with you and we could play a bit more. I barely even scratched the surface with you. Poor Holmes, back from the dead and out of his mind with worry for you, he'll suffer the most. He will be so saddened to hear that his little pet was put down. Ah well, they do say that all good things come to an end! It's just too bad that we've got to end you so soon Johnny!"

Jim's voice was over dramatic as he delivered his speech, a speech John barely even understood. His entire body was shivering, pain overcoming all sense. He finally rolled off the cliff and into the abyss, Sherlock's name a soft whisper across his lips just before he sunk under the total cover of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if I butchered any geography, but I had to use google for research! This story had taken a whole different turn than I had originally intended, but it's all working out just fine! I do hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me for how long this took. I intended to get this up sooner, but life has an odd way of working for me lately. I am working on the next chapter and hope to have it up soon! The next chapter will find us back with Sherlock! Yay! And then only a few more chapters to go! Thank you all, any comments or kudos or support in this story will be greatly appreciated!


End file.
